


Healing - A Sentinel, Guide Story

by franscats



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, The Sentinel Big Bang 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 13:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3327812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franscats/pseuds/franscats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:   When the government discovered who and what sentinels were, it created an institute to protect and care for these special people.  The Sentinel Institute, citing historical references to sentinels having guardians, claimed it should be given legal guardianship of the sentinels.  Laws were passed revoking sentinels’ rights and making them wards of the state.  Unfortunately, “protect and care” was not part of the Institute’s agenda and sentinels were enslaved and abused for five years until the Institute’s abuses were exposed by legal teams working on behalf of sentinels to restore their rights.  Laws which had enslaved the sentinels were repealed and Dr. Blair Sandburg, an expert on sentinels who was instrumental in getting the laws overturned, was made director of a new agency that was designed to help sentinels with their reintegration into society.  Of course, many of the sentinels were distrustful of the new agency and of so called guides.  Part of Blair’s job was to get past the distrust and help the sentinels find guides who would support them.  Jim Ellison, one of the surviving sentinels, wanted neither a guide nor help from the new agency ultimately, leading to a confrontation with Guide Blair Sandburg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing - A Sentinel, Guide Story

**Author's Note:**

> Acknowledgements: First and foremost I must thank my Beta Reader, Kelly (http://www.fanfiction.net/u/923015/bardicfaerie) who helped me through some plot issues and then combed through the piece looking for all my mistakes, of which there were many! I appreciate her time and her efforts on my behalf. She was phenomenal. 
> 
> I also need to thank PattRose for her ongoing encouragement. She convinced me to write a story, so if you don’t like this tale blame her (LOL, just kidding). 
> 
> And finally, I need to thank Kathy S for her beautiful artwork for this story. Her artwork can be found at my dreamwidth account:  
> http://franscats.dreamwidth.org/1222.html
> 
> Warnings: This is an alternate universe story where sentinels are known. It is definitely NC-17 and slash. There are references to rape and torture though neither is described graphically. In some sense I might call this a slavefic but it really isn’t. It is a story about how a sentinel recovers from enslavement with the help of his soul mate and guide. Ultimately, it is a love story between two people who are destined to be together and the rest is just filler.  
> Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Paramount and Pet Fly Productions who own the rights to fandom and said characters, I do not. No money has been exchanged. No harm, slander, defamation of character or company intended.

Healing – A Sentinel, Guide Story

***Part One – Restoration of Rights

“There were approximately three hundred sentinels in this country,” the lawyer intoned making a statement before the gathered press on the courthouse steps as light bulbs flashed. “And in the past all of them have had their rights, not just violated but revoked by cruel litigation that in some cases led to their very demise. I am happy to say that the unjust laws have been reversed today.” The lawyer glared at the Sentinel Institute lawyer slinking down the steps before turning back to the cameras and microphones. “Justice has finally prevailed and the sentinels who are still alive after their incarceration by the Sentinel Institute are no longer enslaved,” he finished his summation before the flashing cameras and news media. 

The tide had turned. Five years early, sentinels had been identified for who and what they were and a small institute had been funded to support these special people with enhanced senses. Unfortunately, the Sentinel Institute had been run by corrupt self serving people who, using the historical context that sentinels had always worked with and bonded to another member of the tribe - a guardian, had as their first recommendation suggested that sentinels were incapable of handling their own affairs because of their enhanced senses. Litigation was passed quietly and quickly making sentinels wards and the Sentinel Institute was then, as the “experts’ on sentinels, given the job of selecting appropriate legal guardians for the sentinels. 

The sentinels had of course protested and challenged the law that took away their rights and litigation had been tied up in courts for years as lawyers from civil liberties groups representing the sentinels fought to get their rights restored. In the meantime, the sentinels were still considered non compos mentis and their finances and lives were seized and handed over to others. 

Lord Acton had written in the 1800s that “power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” and the Sentinel Institute was given absolute power over the sentinels in their care. And just as Lord Acton had predicted the Sentinel Institute was absolutely corrupt. Abuses slowly began to leak out as sentinels’ health deteriorated. The first abuse discovered by an investigator working for civil liberties lawyers was that the Sentinel Institute was not finding the best guardians ad litem for the sentinels but selling the sentinels to the highest bidders or giving them to friends. A friend of the director was given a sentinel who was wealthy. As legal guardian he had control of the sentinel’s money. Within weeks he took as much money as he could get his hands on and locked the sentinel in a room to die before leaving the country. By the time the sentinel was found the fortune was gone and the sentinel died soon after of complications from dehydration and starvation. Other sentinels had been enslaved and forced to work at whatever jobs their guardians chose while the guardians were paid for their services. Some sentinels had been experimented on by pharmaceutical companies and researchers while guardians received money for offering the sentinels as test subjects. Probably one of the more publicized cases and one that impacted the court ruling was a sentinel, discovered two years after the Institute formed. Formally a detective with Major Crimes and an ex army ranger, when taken into the Institute’s custody, he had been handed over to a CIA rogue. The Institute had decided with the sentinel’s specialized skill set he should work with covert operations. Of course, the Sentinel Institute didn’t mention it had been given a fairly substantial amount of money from a rogue operative named Lee Brackett for the sentinel. The rogue tried to use the sentinel to commit a crime that would blackmail a city into giving up millions or release a plague on the city. The former detective had, with some effort, circumvented the guardian and warned the local police and the rogue had been apprehended. The sentinel had then been returned to the Institute for “retraining.”

At the same time that the abuses were being publicized a graduate student in anthropology at Rainier University had submitted and defended his dissertation on the history of sentinels and their place in tribal societies and hierarchies. In the dissertation the student identified the fact that sentinels had not been, as stated by the Sentinel Institute, controlled by guardians but had been tribal warriors and leaders with companions at their sides. The graduate student went so far as to say that the Sentinel Institute had not translated the term for the sentinel’s partner correctly. He identified that the sentinel had a guide not a guardian. The sentinel had been the actual guard watching over the tribe and the companion or guide had guarded the sentinel, not as a master in charge of the sentinel but as an equal helping the sentinel fine-tune his or her senses. Historically, the guide had a special relationship with the sentinel, a bond, and not just anyone could be a guide. The writer, Dr. Blair Sandburg, was actually called as an expert witness by the civil liberties lawyers during the trial and the Sentinel Institute lawyers had been unable to shake his research thus negating their claim that sentinels needed guardians and were non compos mentis.

After the sentinels’ rights had been restored the true nature of the Sentinel Institute came out and the public outcry was loud and angry. For a country that prided itself on freedom, the US had dropped the ball rather badly. Investigators found that the Sentinel Institute made the infamous Bedlam Sanitarium of the 18th century seem like a resort. It had kept sentinels locked in damp, moldy, windowless, airless cells to zone and die if they hadn’t been sold or had been returned because they proved inadequate by their buyers. The sentinels had been half starved on disgusting rotting foods, left in soiled clothes and tortured for amusement by guards. Of the original three hundred sentinels, sixty had died in the deplorable conditions of captivity and only about another twenty rescued from the Institute could still function. In many cases, the one hundred and sixty that had been “sold” to would-be guardians had fared even worse. As the uncovering of the extent of abuse grew and became public the Sentinel Institute’s director was arrested on charges of slavery, torture, embezzlement and a host of other crimes. He and his staff’s assets were seized as profits of a crime, and guards arrested for assault and torture. When the Institute had to finally open its doors and files it was discovered of the three hundred sentinels that had lived in the country only about one hundred and fifty were still in a state that could be called living. But it was only after the abuses had been uncovered that the government realized the extent of its loss. Sentinels were an almost extinct breed which was why there was so little known about them beyond the fact they were guardians of their territories. By some freak of luck and nature a large number of them had been born at this one time in the country. Instead of celebrating that fact and helping them do what they were genetically predisposed to do - protect, the government had allowed greedy men to destroy these special people and it was a loss that could not be fixed. As if nature understood the country was undeserving of them, no new sentinels had been born in the next generation.

Knowing it had to do something for the sentinels that had survived the abuse the government had turned from the Sentinel Institute experts that had caused the catastrophe to the experts who had led the fight to free these unique individuals. With the assistance and ultimately approval of the legal team that had led the fight for sentinel rights the government hired Dr. Blair Sandburg to head up a new organization, one that would help sentinels without trampling their rights. Dr. Sandburg was considered the foremost expert on sentinels and so after all the litigation was handed down he was given the job, staff and funds needed to set up a new institute with the goal of supporting the sentinels in their reintegration into society and helping them find and choose guides. For the most part sentinels’ lives had been shattered by the first Sentinel Institute and many had, upon getting their freedom, dispersed throughout the country fearing the new institute. Blair Sandburg’s job was to find them, convince them to register with the new institute called the Center for Sentinels and Guides or CSG for short and then introduce them to guide candidates with the hope that a bond would form. Not an easy task, considering most of the sentinels had been enslaved for the last five years by what really amounted to another institute that purported to support the sentinels.

Sandburg’s first order of business when he took over the Institute was firing half the staff. Many had been around during the first Institute and Blair found their attitudes about sentinels insufferable. Next, he arranged to have on staff a legal team whose sole job was getting sentinels restitution. The legal team worked closely with the District Attorneys in different states to punish those who had “owned” and abused sentinels and get them monetary compensation. Finally, Blair added a team of psychiatrists and medical doctors who could help the sentinels recover from the abuse they had suffered for years. Feeling this was a good start and that he could rely on the people he had hired he then turned his intellect to the second and equally important part of his job; finding possible guides. 

***Part Two – Finding Guides

Walking into his office at Rainier University, Blair waved to his secretary, an extremely efficient middle aged woman named Mrs. Glassbaum, and glanced at his calendar. The groan he made was heartfelt and his secretary smiled as she came in carrying some papers. “I don’t think I can take another day of interviewing would be guides,” Blair complained as his secretary shook her head and handed him his mail. Blair had decided he alone would choose guide candidates, the task was just too important to leave to someone else but finding eligible candidates with the right mind set was not easy. But Blair was sensitive to the needs of sentinels and he seemed to have a knack for finding others who would also be sensitive to sentinel needs and so far he had found almost sixty possible candidates.

“It won’t take all that long,” she warned. “This group has some real winners.”

Blair rubbed his hands over his face and then smoothed back his long curly brown hair revealing a very young face with large dark blue eyes. “Okay, let’s get it over with, send in the first applicant.”

Two minutes later, a pretty brunette was smiling at him from a seat across the desk. “Hello, Ms. Carone,” Blair looked up and smiled. “I see you are applying as a guide. What are your qualifications?”

“Well, I’ve had a sentinel,” she admitted. “My father bought one from the other institute and I want another. Before that law changed Jason was my cook and because he had such great taste buds he was good at it.”

“Your cook?” Blair repeated pasting a smile on his face and trying to keep his voice neutral as he watched the girl nod. “Ms. Carone, do you understand that sentinels are no longer required to work where and how others tell them?”

“Daddy says that will change again and when it does I want a sentinel.” The young woman’s tone sounded down right petulant and Blair cringed internally at the idea of any sentinel having to work with her. He couldn’t imagine what Jason’s life had been like.

Blair nodded standing, deciding he would not get into a discussion on how slavery was outlawed in this country though somewhere in the back of his mind he admitted that was what had happened to the sentinels despite the original Sentinel Institute’s claim that it was helping them. “I’ll put your application in the appropriate file,” he promised and watched the girl get up and walk out before writing rejected across the first page and throwing the rest of said application in the trash can. The rest of the morning Blair interviewed would be guides and by afternoon had three potentials out of the twenty applicants. Standing and stretching he walked to the door and smiled at Mrs. Glassbaum. “How many sentinels have registered so far?” he asked. Part of the job and one undertaken by his assistants at the CSG was getting sentinels to register. Once registered the CSG lawyers immediately began litigation on behalf of the sentinels. In addition, the sentinels were given immediate financial, psychological and medical support while the CSG helped them reestablish their lives. And the CSG would periodically invite sentinels to meetings with potential guides hoping something would click for the sentinels and make their senses easier to control but if they didn’t register there would be no way to get them guides or any other support. Unfortunately, after the fiasco with the Sentinel Institute most sentinels were leery of registering and would rather face painful spikes and possibly deadly zones rather than sign up or work with a guide.

“I think Richard was able to talk three into registering this week, so we have about eighty seven registered but he says there’s one who he met this week who is adamant about not registering.” Blair usually went and talked to stubborn sentinels when this type of thing happened.

“Let me guess, Jim Ellison.”

“You got it in one,” the secretary confirmed looking at the notes Richard had left.

Blair sighed softly as he considered the former detective. “Getting him to register might go a long way towards getting others to. Jim Ellison is the sentinel hero who stopped Cascade from being doused with Ebola. He’s a bona fide hero, hell, he was Cop of the Year even before the Sentinel Institute mess, and he stopped his guardian from killing most of Cascade. From what sentinels I’ve interviewed have said, Ellison tried his best to help them with their senses when locked up in the Institute. And his was the case that the lawyers cited during their arguments to have sentinel rights restored. Obviously, his senses were not a deficit and uncontrolled and the man didn’t need a guardian.”

“Richard said the man moved into a cabin two hours outside of Cascade and threw him out when he went up there.” Blair nodded; he had heard some of this information from Richard when the assistant came back. Richard hadn’t been too happy about being threatened if he didn’t leave Ellison’s property.

“I’ll take a drive up there and try talking to him on Saturday,” Blair answered.

“You better go early; the weatherman says there will be snow.”

“Right,” Blair answered retrieving some coffee from the pot in the corner. “Just what I need. Well I think the Volvo’s heat is working.” 

Mrs. Glassbaum shook her head. Blair’s car was infamous. 

“I’ll review what little we know about Jim Ellison then I’ll see him on Saturday.” He headed back to his office thoughtfully pulling the Ellison file he had created from his sentinel cabinet. He had created a file for each sentinel who had been a ward of the Sentinel Institute and had begun filling in information as he registered and interviewed sentinels. It was the best documentation he could get. The Sentinel Institute records were part of the court records, however, the judge in the case seeing the nature of the material and the need for a degree of sensitivity had ordered a media blackout during the case and the records sealed. No sentinel should be forced to read about his or her enslavement with all the slavery entailed in a Sunday newspaper supplement. And no one, including the CSG lawyers, had been able to get the files opened. The civil liberties lawyers had been adamant pointing out it would once again be trampling on the sentinels’ rights, again supposedly for their own good. And even though Blair wanted those records to help the sentinels, he had to concede to the lawyers’ arguments.

Taking a seat in his office, Blair reviewed the document he had created looking over the little history available. Ellison had been found two years after the Institute had formed and had been taken into custody. While there, according to other sentinels, he had talked others through spikes and zones when placed in less than ideal conditions. He had also proved less than cooperative for the guards and had often been punished for difficult and stubborn resistance to Sentinel Institute training (this was not detailed but Blair could guess that the training was “obedience training” as the Institute had nicknamed the indoctrinations used to get sentinel cooperation). After six months of training Lee Brackett had been given custody of Ellison with the proviso to be very strict with the uncooperative sentinel. There was no more information for the next two years but then Jim Ellison with the help of his former colleagues in the Major Crimes unit of the Cascade PD had stopped Brackett from blackmailing the city with an Ebola Virus strain. After the arrest of Bracket, Ellison had to be available for the trial. He was returned to the Sentinel Institute where he spent the next three months both in and out of court with the Brackett trail. The trial ended with a guilty verdict less than one month before the Institute was terminated and Ellison was freed. Beyond that there was little information available.

Sitting back Blair considered what he knew. The man had been a detective and before that an army ranger, so he was intelligent and well disciplined. That his senses had come online late was to some extent a plus for him since it had kept him out of Sentinel Institute clutches for the first two years. And obviously he knew how to get around a guardian. That he was stubborn, Richard could attest to but Blair imagined that his outwitting Brackett was also a sign of his stubbornness and his bravery. He must have somehow defied Institute training to circumvent Bracket. Actually, Blair found himself looking forward to meeting this man. Putting the file away he turned to his second task of the day, arranging a Friday meeting between some of the registered sentinels and perspective guides hoping something would click. Fridays were usually his Meet & Greet days for sentinels and guides. That way, if the sentinels and guides clicked they would have the weekend to spend some time getting acquainted.

***Part Three – The Meeting

Friday night after the sentinel guide meeting, Blair was feeling pretty good. He had actually paired three sentinels with guides that week. He knew the sentinels had come out of desperation, not trust of him or the CSG, but it had brought the total of sentinel guide pairs up to twenty eight and several other sentinels had shown interest in some of the would be guides. He had interviewed all twenty eight pairs trying to find what made the pairs click but so far it had been something indefinable. It was also interesting and he supposed expected that all twenty eight pairs were working in some protective service. After all, sentinels were tribal watchmen and he supposed that they naturally migrated into fields that allowed them to protect their tribe. Four of the pairs were police officers in the north east, ten fire fighters across the country and fourteen search and rescue workers, mostly in the mid-west. 

So Saturday morning Blair was feeling pretty confident when he took Richard’s directions and headed towards the Cascade foothills. The drive would have been pleasant but for the fact that his car kept making strange noises as he went along. It really was a bit more than a two hour drive and Blair had just reached the cabin when the first snowflakes began to fall. Pulling up near the house, Blair parked and looked around speculatively. The cabin, he realized was not the rustic shack that he had envisioned. Actually, it was not really a cabin at all but a small, one story farmhouse with a wraparound porch surrounded on three sides by acres of woods and Blair guessed, despite the logs stacked neatly in a corner of the porch near what he could only guess was a mud room entrance, the farmhouse had heating, plumbing and electricity. Richard had not given a very clear description of Ellison’s home or so Blair thought as Ellison came out and leaned against the porch pillar, arms across his chest, his body language anything but friendly.

“Hello,” Blair smiled his eyes moving from the clear blue eyes and strong chin of the man before him, down the hard muscled arms and chest and flat stomach outlined by the soft blue sweater that so complimented those incredibly blue eyes, to the tapered waist and further down to the long, muscular legs. Damn, the man was hot. Eyes moving reluctantly from the body back up to the face, Blair stepped forward. “Mr. Ellison my name is Blair Sandburg, I’m from the Center for Sentinels and Guides.”

The sentinel made no move, his body language suggesting Blair was not welcome and Blair stopped not going up the steps. He understood the need to respect a sentinel’s boundaries. After all that had been done to them pushing too much would seem controlling and with their prior enslavement the last thing the CSG wanted to appear was controlling. “I’d like to talk with you about the CSG.”

“I already told one of your representatives, I’m not interested,” the voice was clipped and precise and carried not just a sense of authority and power but a hint of danger that made Blair shiver but not with fear. 

Keeping focused on his goal Blair nodded. “I heard,” he admitted, “but I was hoping I could have a chance to convince you.”

“You can’t.”

“Have a chance or convince you,” Blair offered with a smile and for one second he saw amusement flicker across the former detective’s face, softening the features making them look even more desirable and Blair’s groin stirred with interest.

“Look Dr. Sandburg…” Blair raised an eyebrow at the use of his title, “I was at the courthouse during your testimony,” Jim answered the unasked question before continuing, “I have no desire to put my life in the hands of any person or institute. I didn’t have a choice when it was the Sentinel Institute. They took my rights as a citizen and my assets. My life was controlled by a man who practically owned me and walked me around with a collar and leash on to remind me of that fact.” Blair cringed at the thought. All sentinels had been collared with thick leather chokers that were locked around their necks and had tags identifying them as sentinels and identifying their guardians. The chokers had included rings for hooking leashes to the collars. During the trial it was uncovered that within the Institute sentinels had been led around by guards on leashes as a reminder that they no longer controlled their own lives. The Sentinel Institute had also encouraged the use of leashes outside as a means of controlling the sentinels though as far as Blair knew it was not widely practiced, or not practiced in public anyway. It was humiliating for the sentinels and at trial added to the preponderance of evidence of sentinel abuse Blair could hear the bitterness in Ellison’s voice as the sentinel paused before continuing. “Would you like to hear about the last three years of my life, it’s not a pretty story? Before the Sentinel Institute I had a home and a job I liked, you know what I have now, a trust fund that the Sentinel Institute couldn’t get their greedy hands on. So you can just leave I’m not registering with anyone.”

“The CSG can help you get back your money and property or at least compensation,” Blair whispered trying to ignore the emotional upheaval he felt at what had been done to the detective. He didn’t question why he felt so strongly about what had happened to Ellison, Lord knew other sentinels had suffered too, but something in him ached for this man.

“It can’t get back the last three years of my life,” Jim growled in anger and turned to go inside. “Thanks for your testimony. I think you should leave, the snow is going to get very heavy, very fast.”

Blair watched as Jim Ellison turned and walked into the cabin closing the door. With a sigh, he considered what he should do. He was not known for giving in easily. Still, he couldn’t blame the sentinel for wanting no part of an institute. Blair didn’t know the particulars of what had happened to Jim Ellison, some of the sentinels’ stories had come out, some had been interviewed but many were still silent on the treatment they had endured while under the Sentinel Institute’s control but being Lee Bracket’s ward must have been difficult and probably painful. It was not unheard of for a sentinel to be beaten or whipped by his or her guardian. A certain amount of “discipline for training purposes” was expected according to the Sentinel Institute. As long as the sentinel didn’t end up in the hospital no one said a word. And there had been even worse abuses. Because no one understood exactly what a bond was or how it formed, many sentinels had been raped by their guardians in an effort to form one. Of course that hadn’t worked, bonds weren’t created by sex, a bond between sentinel and guide could be deepened by sex as an expression of love but the bond was much more of a psychic link and required no physical component. However, until Blair had challenged Sentinel Institute doctrine sex as a bonding tool had been the general belief and rape a common practice.

For another minute, Blair looked up at the cabin wanting very much to go in and talk with the sentinel but finally with a shake of his head he turned to his car, relieved to get out of the swirling snow, rising wind and frigid air. Maybe, if he interviewed Brackett he might get some insight into how to approach Ellison. 

Putting the key in the ignition, Blair tried to start the car but aside from making some strange noises, the Volvo didn’t start. Banging on the steering wheel Blair cursed as he tried again and again but after ten minutes he rested his head on the wheel. The snow was starting to come down heavy, the ground already showing a white covering and he needed to get moving if he wanted to get home before the roads closed. He was going to try again when a tap at his window made him look up. Ellison stood there. “Your spark plugs need replacing Sandburg. When was the last time this piece of junk you call a car had an overhaul?”

“It’s a classic,” Blair intoned automatically before adding somewhat sheepishly, “It’s been a while.” Opening the door Blair stepped out of the car and opened the hood. He didn’t have a clue what he was looking at, he knew nothing about car mechanics but Ellison walked over and looked down at the myriad hoses and pipes shaking his head.

“It’s the spark plugs, I could tell as you drove up,” he stated before turning and looking thoughtfully at Blair. Sandburg had sided with the sentinels in the court case and had been the sentinel expert who insisted that sentinels were completely capable of handling their own affairs. And from what little he had heard the CSG sounded harmless; even helpful. Jim supposed that put the anthropologist on the side of the good guys and he should help him. “There’s a mechanic five miles east on route 27. I can give you a lift there and see what he can do.”

“Thanks man,” Blair grabbed his backpack from the backseat and followed Jim to an old Ford truck.

“Don’t thank me. It’s self preservation. If you can’t get your car started I’ll be stuck with you until the storm is over.” Jim said the words gruffly, but Blair climbing into the truck could hear a hint of amusement. He turned and watched as Ellison got behind the wheel and wondered how he could reach and help this sentinel as Jim drove them to the mechanic.

Mike’s Mechanic Shop on old route 27 was open when Jim pulled up the driveway and parked near the garage. Climbing out of the truck in the now fast falling snow, Ellison went to the door and called out for Mike who came out rubbing dirty hands on greasy overalls as Blair joined Jim by the door.

“Hey Ellison,” the man called good-naturedly. “Decided to sell me Sweetheart, here?”

Jim smiled back, and again Blair was struck by how handsome the man was. “No, Sweetheart keeps me moving and I take good care of her.” He glanced at Blair beside him. “But my friend here doesn’t have anything as reliable and his car is stuck at my house.”

“That right,” Mike glanced at Blair speculatively before turning back to Jim. “Any idea what the problem is?” he asked. Mike had already discovered Jim Ellison knew something about cars. 

“Yeah, spark plugs are shot on his 62 Volvo.”

“Damn,” Mike shook his head. “I’ll have to send for those parts. I don’t keep Volvo parts around. Not much call for them.” He went into his office, Jim and Blair following. “I can probably have them by Tuesday,” he looked up at the men. “You want me to tow the car over before the snow gets heavy?”

Jim glanced at Blair who looked completely stricken not sure what to do. He had no idea how he would get home. “Yeah, you better,” he nudged Blair, Jim’s elbow poking him in his ribs. “Give the man your keys Sandburg,” he intoned softly and Blair nodded.

“Is there a rental place anywhere around?” Blair asked and both Mike and Jim smiled thinking the question funny.

“Well, sure.” Mike answered with a chuckle. “Forty miles south in Tanners you could probably rent something but up here we don’t get much call for rentals.”

“Forty miles?” Blair questioned and Mike nodded grabbing the keys to his tow truck.

“I’ll follow you back,” he told Jim, “and get the car. The storm is really starting to come in and I’m closing up in a few.”

“Thanks Mike,” Jim nudged Blair again and started back to his truck the anthropologist following.

Jim waited for Mike and then drove back taking the drive slowly. The road was already sporting about two inches of snow and the wind had picked up impacting visibility as they went and though a sentinel could still see pretty well visibility was definitely down. By the time Mike left, Blair’s car attached to his tow there was closer to four inches on the ground and Blair stood shivering in the cold wind as snow pelted him accumulating in his long hair and soaking through his clothes. Turning he looked at Ellison as the sentinel gazed after the disappearing tow truck his face unreadable. Blair knew the sentinel didn’t want him here though the man had proved more than decent in helping him and he didn’t want to force himself on Jim Ellison but he wasn’t sure what he should do. 

Turning back Jim looked over the anthropologist noticing the tiny shivers. He also noticed that despite the long hair, now wet and plastered to his face, the kid was kind of cute. “Come on Sandburg, let’s get inside before you freeze to death.”

“Listen Mr. Ellison,” he looked up into Jim’s face, realizing that despite the fact that he was not a sentinel, he could zone on those light blue eyes. “Maybe I could borrow your truck.”

“And go where? In case you haven’t noticed we are in a blizzard.” Jim yelled over the howl of the wind.

“There must be a motel somewhere nearby?” Jim just shook his head and started for the house, Blair behind him.

“I’m stuck with you Sandburg, until the storm is over,” Jim stated while stomping off the snow on his boots. He stood at the door and watched Blair, who had worn shoes not boots shake off snow before taking off his jacket. Jim could tell the anthropologist was not prepared for this type of weather and his clothes were soaked through already. “Did you even check the weather reports before coming up here?” he asked as he went into the bathroom returning with a towel which he handed to Blair.

“Of course, but I didn’t expect the snow this early.”

“Were you checking for the weather in the city of Cascade or the Cascade Hills?” 

Blair stared at Jim for a moment blankly, and then as he realized what Jim was suggesting blushed. Jim shook his head going into his bedroom to find something Blair could wear. “And they called you as an expert at the trial, we sentinels were lucky.”

“I’m an anthropologist,” Blair called out defending himself as he looked around the room. “I know all about sentinels and tribal cultures not winters in the mountains.”

“Obviously,” Jim replied dryly returning and handing Blair a pair of sweats and some thick white socks. “They’ll be big but at least they’re dry and warm.”

“Thanks,” he whispered softly and turned toward the bathroom. “I’m sorry about this Mr. Ellison.” 

Jim watching him could see the anthropologist was upset about putting his host out and decided to give the kid a break. Bringing his voice down from his covert ops alienating voice to an easy one he answered. “We’re going to be stuck together at least until the storm is over so you might as well call me Jim.” Jim was graced with a beautiful thousand watt smile from Blair in response and couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks, Jim.” Blair put out his hand. “I’m Blair.” Jim reached over and took the hand and then almost jumped in surprise as a spark of something ran right through him. And looking at Blair the sentinel could tell the same thing seemed to happen to him. 

“Damn,” Jim whispered frowning as he pulled away and moved toward the wood pile leaving a confused Blair standing watching him. 

“Chief, get out of those wet clothes,” Jim practically growled and Blair jumped as though coming out of some trance and turned to the bathroom as Jim bent down at the fireplace to get a fire started.

Ten minutes later, feeling significantly warmer in Jim’s rolled up clothes Blair entered the living room and looked around. There was a nice fire going in the hearth and he instantly moved toward it drawn by the warmth. Jim was not in the room and Blair looked around curiously trying to get some sense of the sentinel. There was nothing personal on the mantel, no pictures or artifacts and looking around the room Blair could find some softly muted colors on comfortable chairs and sofas and low lighting, easy on a sentinel’s eyes, but nothing personal. From the room no one could tell anything about the personality of the owner. Reluctantly moving from the fireplace, Blair went to the bookshelf and glanced at the various titles. Mostly mysteries and thrillers graced the shelves and how to books on plumbing, cars and household maintenance. As Jim had been a detective with the PD the mysteries didn’t come as a surprise but there didn’t seem to be anything else to gleam any information from. Closing his eyes, Blair listened for a moment to the wind whistling outside and then moved over to look out the window. Snow was falling fast and hard the wind blowing it sideways, whipping it around the porch and sounding almost like the howl of a wolf as it made snow drifts around the house. With a sigh, Blair wondered not for the first time how someone could so abuse a sentinel that he would forgo his instinctive need to protect his tribe and choose this lonely existence over companionship. But Blair already knew the answer. Society had failed these sentinels, instead of seeing them as the incredible protectors they were, human greed had made them into slaves and they had every right to turn their backs on their tribes. 

Turning, he again gravitated to the fireplace as Jim came in the room. “I’m making lunch if you’re interested,” Jim offered and Blair nodded with a smile. 

“Can I help?”

“Want to make a salad?”

“It’s my specialty,” Blair answered and practically bounced on the balls of his feet as he followed Jim into the kitchen where a coffee pot was already dripping some much needed caffeine. Grabbing the lettuce, Blair began shredding the greens and cutting peppers as Jim pulled out some cold cuts. “So how long have you lived here, Jim?” he asked as he worked.

“We were freed two months ago,” Jim pointed out the obvious and Blair blushed realizing what a dumb question it was, “so about a month and a half?”

“You bought it right after. I didn’t think, that is…” Blair didn’t know how to finish but he was fairly certain that Jim had been left with few resources. One of the first priorities of the CSG was getting these people suitable housing, restitution, financial settlements and compensations.

“I used to come up here to go camping in the summer so I bought it years ago. When the Sentinel Institute made all sentinels wards, I made some arrangements before they caught me. I hid most of my savings away and made sure this place wasn’t listed with my assets and I arranged for my brother to pay any bills connected with it so when I was taken,’ Jim answered with a shrug, “Brackett couldn’t sell it. The only things he did get his hands on were me and my loft.”

Blair nodded his understanding. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Not your fault Sandburg.” He finished working on the sandwiches and put them down on the table. Blair carried over the salad.

“Jim why won’t you register with the CSG?” he asked. “We could help you.”

Jim gave a tired sigh as he turned and looked at his guest. “Look Blair, right now you are heading the CSG but what happens when someone else takes over and says sentinels need to be wards again. I won’t be part of my own capture.”

“It won’t happen, Jim. All of my research proves sentinels weren’t wards of guardians but partners of guides and that won’t change. The evidence is substantial,” Blair answered taking a seat at the table and reaching for a sandwich his face turning thoughtful as he continued, “What I’m working on now is how to match sentinels and guides so they bond. Life would be so much easier for a sentinel if he or she found and bonded with a guide.”

Jim didn’t answer immediately but took a seat at the table next to Blair. “You should be able to figure it out, Chief. You are a guide.”

“What, no I’m not.” Jim looked across the table at the anthropologist raising an eyebrow at Blair’s bemused expression. “Why would you even think I’m a guide? Just because I head up the CSG doesn’t make me a guide.”

Jim considered the anthropologist silently until Blair began to fidget under the scrutiny. “Do you know why the lawyers picked my case as the test case in court?” he asked softly.

“Sure you saved Cascade from Bracket.”

“I did,” Jim agreed, not boasting just stating fact, “but there was another reason. You’ve been with me a couple of hours, any signs of spikes, zones, sense problems?”

“No, now that you mention it, but you are in a low key environment.”

“Deliberately,” Jim agreed. “But I have a lot of control over my senses, probably more than most unbonded sentinels. It took the Sentinel Institute two years to get me. Know why?” Blair shook his head. “Before I was with the PD I was an army ranger. One of my missions took me to Peru.”

“You’re that Jim Ellison. I never made the connection,” Blair cut in excitedly his face lighting up. “You spent 18 months with the Chopec and they are not known for accepting outsiders. Man I wanted to interview you so bad when you were first rescued. Your experiences are an anthropologist’s dream.”

Jim snorted. “Actually, it was because of the rescue that I eventually got caught by the Sentinel Institute. Brackett was involved in the rescue and he remembered that I exhibited enhanced senses.” Jim paused to take a sip of coffee, watching Blair. “I was an online sentinel when I was with the Chopec,” he finally stated and Blair’s eyes widened in wonder. “I was for all intents their sentinel.”

“Did you have a Chopec guide?” Blair asked then stopped. “Wait,” he ran from the table, food forgotten and grabbed his backpack pulling out a legal pad and pen. “I need to take notes.”

Jim chuckled watching the anthropologist’s enthusiasm. “No, I did not have a guide. The village shaman, Incacha, said the spirits showed him I was destined to have a guide from my own tribe and told the elders not to match me with any guide. I think the Chief kept parading guides in front of me hoping I would take the initiative. That way he didn’t disobey Incacha. But it didn’t work. None of the guides were my guide, I could tell. So, Incacha acted as, I guess you’d call it an interim guide, and taught me control of my senses without a bond. Which is why, for two years, I was able to hide that I was online.”

Blair paused, pen in hand and looked up at Jim his blue eyes wide with wonder. “A shaman taught you control without a bond?” He couldn’t believe it. This might just be an answer to the problem of the sentinels. If they could get some control until they found their guides, life would be so much better for them.

“Obviously, it doesn’t always work or I wouldn’t have gotten caught by the Sentinel Institute, unexpected loud noises and flashing lights can still cause problems but Incacha gave me enough control that I can get through the usual day to day.” Blair could feel his excitement rising as he watched the sentinel.

“You have to tell me everything he taught you. It could help so many sentinels.”

Jim smiled hearing the enthusiasm. “The point I was making Sandburg is I’ve known tribal guides, I know what they feel like, how I react to them and you are a guide.” He looked down at his salad and pushed it around for a few moments his thoughts turbulent as he considered but didn’t add aloud, “You are my guide.”

***Part Four - Denial

“What,” Blair’s eyes focused on Jim Ellison. “Jim that’s crazy, I am not a guide.”

Jim glanced back at the younger man saying nothing. Jim couldn’t force Blair, if the kid didn’t want to accept his role, so be it. In time maybe he would come to realize what he was or maybe not. And he certainly wasn’t about to tell Blair Sandburg he was Jim’s destined guide. Jim had just settled in this cabin, he didn’t want to uproot and he didn’t want to push the idea of bonding. He was still getting over the last three years. Anyway, Incacha had given him enough control that he could live without a guide. It wasn’t the greatest way to live, it limited Jim’s options but Jim was used to it. Jim shrugged and glanced at the young man. “My mistake,” he stated and watched Blair narrow his eyes, not believing Jim’s response. But unless he wanted to call Jim on the statement, he was stuck. “So tell me, how did you get involved in sentinel research?” he asked changing the subject. 

Blair smiled, not forgetting Jim’s statement or the training he wanted to explore but letting it go knowing he would have a chance to return to the topics later since they were snowed in. Instead, he launched into a discussion of anthropology and his discovery of sentinels through some obscure work by Sir Richard Burton, the explorer. 

An hour later, dishes cleaned, table cleared, Blair sat in the living room nursing a beer and watching Jim add wood to the fire. Outside the storm was still blowing but inside the farmhouse it was warm and, for lack of a better word Blair decided, cozy. Sitting on the sofa, close to the fire Blair sighed and glanced impatiently at the notepad in his lap. More than anything he wanted to hear about the Chopec shaman and just how and what he had taught Jim Ellison but Jim had put him off saying he didn’t want to discuss it over lunch. But lunch was over and Blair lifted his pen tapping it on the paper impatiently until Jim turned and glared at the offending hand. “Sorry,” Blair gently placed the pen down. “Not used to sentinel hearing.”

Jim nodded his understanding before giving in to the inevitable. “Alright, ask your questions,” he finally answered and Blair smiled, his whole face lighting with pleasure.

“Uhm, first, tell me about the Chopec.” Jim glanced down and a small smile lit across his features as he considered the tribe he had considered home for 18 months. 

“Incacha found me after…after the accident, which was probably a good thing. I probably would have been killed if another member of the tribe found me first. Somehow he knew I was a sentinel.” Jim paused and lifted his beer taking a long pull on the bottle his eyes distant. After a minute he shook his head clear of memories and continued. “He took me back to the village and took care of my injuries. After I healed and learned the language I joined the tribe’s scouting party and we defended the Chopec Pass.”

“But you said he taught you control.”

“He did,” Jim affirmed. “When I came online he taught me how to keep from focusing too long on one sense so I wouldn’t zone. He said to never use just one sense at a time.”

“I’m sure he had some techniques for teaching you control?”

Jim nodded. “We spent a lot of time walking through the jungle together. He was always pushing me to stretch my senses but never just one. He made me piggy back one on another.”

“What about spikes?” Blair asked jotting some notes. 

Jim got up and walked to the mantel picking up a small ceramic bowl. Putting it down on the coffee table in front of Blair he went into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water which he poured into the bowl. “Incacha said my senses were measured the same way water was measured in the bowl. He told me, to function I needed to keep them mid level like the water and raise them or lower them when needed.” Blair glanced at the bowl and back at Jim.

“Like a radio dial or volume control? You set it to the normal setting and then raise or lower it?” Blair asked struck by how easy that image would be to explain to other sentinels.

Jim nodded. “The concept is easy, but it’s not easy to do. Incacha spent a lot of time getting me to recognize the level of my senses. He would make me raise them and lower them constantly until I got the hang of it. It took a long time to learn,” Jim added thoughtfully. “It might have gone faster with a guide but the end result was I could do it on my own. So I guess the tradeoff was worth it.”

Blair looked down his next question a bit too casual. “You said you could recognize guides. How? And what makes guides, well guides. I’m trying to pair sentinels with guides and my success rate is about 25%.” Blair didn’t add but was thinking and how and why do you think I’m a guide?”

Jim considered the question his eyes on the fire. Finally, he shrugged. “What makes guides guides is pretty easy to explain. Guides are people who can connect almost empathically with a sentinel, that’s how the bond forms. Most sentinels meet one maybe two guides in their lifetime but the Chopec had a lot more though Incacha said none of the Chopec would be my guide. The Chopec have had lot of experiences with sentinels, guides and bonds. Maybe that’s why they recognized me for what I was. So, unlike most sentinels I’ve been around a lot of guides. After a while you can get a sense about them. There’s an acknowledgement between a sentinel and compatible guide below the surface. Sometimes one, the other or both don’t even notice it. Since I was trained by Incacha to recognize and ignore the pull of a guide I can sense guides but other sentinels haven’t had my training.”

Blair nodded, it made sense. “That’s why you thought I was a guide, you feel the pull?”

“I felt a charge run through me at contact. Didn’t you feel it?”

“Static electricity man,” Blair answered dismissively. Jim just watched him and Blair looked down his cheeks turning red. And then another thought struck him and he bounced with excitement. “If you can tell who is a guide you could help other sentinels find guides.”

“Hold up Sandburg. I’m no matchmaker.”

Blair continued steamrolling over the objection. “Man, unlike you most of the sentinels who came out of the Institute are floundering. Their senses are out of control after the treatment they received at the Institute and by their so called guardians and emotionally and physically they’re wrecks. If you could come to work for the CSG...”

“No,” Jim cut in his voice angry. “You may be all right Sandburg but that doesn’t mean your Center is. I’ll have no part in that.”

“But Jim.”

“No.”

Blair could tell the discussion was closed and sighed his eyes going to the window where low light filtered through the curtains as snow continued to fall. “I have to help them,” Blair said at last and Jim nodded.

“You feel that way because you are a guide.”

“I feel that way because I’m a decent human being,” Blair challenged and Jim shrugged turning and adding another log to the fire.

The snow kept up for hours, the low lying storm blocking out satellite and television reception so to entertain themselves Jim and Blair made dinner, discussed politics, and drank a couple more beers before Jim handed Blair some sheets, blankets and pillows for the guest bedroom and went to bed. Offering Blair a good night the sentinel disappeared behind the closed bedroom door leaving Blair alone with his thoughts. Ruefully, Blair watched Jim’s ass as he moved toward the bedroom idly wishing that he could go with him. Blair would very much like to nail that ass to a bed. Giving up on that fantasy before it could go any further Blair considered his meeting with Jim. He couldn’t say he had progressed all that much, Jim still refused to register with the CSG but Jim’s possible potential as a trainer of sentinels and locator of guides eclipsed all thoughts of Jim’s simply registering. Jim had been adamant about not getting involved with the CSG but Blair wasn’t finished pitching the idea to the man. The anthropologist knew himself. He knew he hadn’t given up. Jim had simply won the first battle but Blair had every intention of winning the war and getting Jim to work with him. It was all a matter of finding the right means of persuasion. In any case, it wasn’t good or really safe for Jim to live so far from other people. He needed to coax Jim back to Cascade. He just had to figure out how. 

Glancing over his notes Blair considered areas Jim had refused to discuss. He wouldn’t talk about what Brackett had done to him as his guardian. He wouldn’t discuss what the Institute had done to him though when prompted he did discuss how he had tried to help some of the other sentinels at the Institute. But that didn’t come as news to Blair. He had heard about Jim’s assistance from other sentinels, he just hadn’t realized how well equipped Jim was to support the others. 

Finally, reluctantly, Blair turned his mind to the idea of identifying guides. Jim said he could detect guides but he also said Blair was a guide. But Blair didn’t feel like a guide, not that he knew how a guide felt and he certainly didn’t have time to be a guide. A guide and sentinel worked together usually in some protective field but Blair couldn’t work in those fields. He had too much to do supporting the sentinels and he didn’t know the first thing about guiding. And what do the guides you’ve paired know? Blair asked. Right now guides and sentinels were running on instinct which seemed to be working out well. Blair intended to begin a study of how successful sentinel guide pairs worked but he hadn’t gotten to that yet.

Blair jotted a note to himself, a wondering. Could Jim interview would be guides for the CSG? How much easier would his Friday night sentinel and guide Meet & Greets be if he knew all the candidates were in fact guides. Putting his notes aside, Blair turned off the living room light and glanced at the fire already burning down in the fireplace. Before turning in Jim had closed the screen so no embers could spark anything in the living room. Tomorrow he would have another go at getting James Ellison to register with the CSG both as a sentinel in need of a guide and as a possible teacher. And his final thought just before he drifted off to sleep was he would, if necessary, hit Jim over the head and bodily carry him to the CSG.

***Part Five – The Sentinel’s Perspective

It wasn’t the smell of bacon cooking but the lure of coffee that finally coaxed Blair from sleep. Sitting up he looked around for a minute before remembering where he was and after a trip to the bathroom where Jim had thoughtfully laid out a packaged disposable razor, toothbrush and towels (or maybe it was self preservation, Blair thought ruefully after all the man had a heightened sense of smell) headed into the kitchen where Jim was making breakfast.

“Morning Chief,” Jim didn’t turn around to look at his guest as he placed the strips of bacon on paper towels to drain off excess fat. “I hope you like scrambled eggs and bacon.” He stopped and turned to stare at the anthropologist. “Or maybe you don’t eat bacon?”

“Not normally,” Blair smiled. “But it’s not a religious thing; it’s a fat content thing.” He took a seat and reached for the coffee as Jim turned back to the stove finishing the cooking. It gave Blair a very nice view of Jim Ellison’s firm ass and once again Blair fantasized about Jim but he cut short his daydream when Jim turned and carried over the frying pan dividing the eggs between two plates before laying the plate of bacon on the table. 

“Did you sleep well?” Jim asked as he took a seat and put some bacon strips on his plate.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize how tired I was,” Blair admitted looking out the kitchen window. The kitchen was a small country kitchen with a good amount of counter top space for working and pots hanging from racks on the ceiling. In addition, there was a small round table with four chairs tucked into a nook by the windows. From the nook a person could get the early morning sun – if there were any - and look out across the porch to the grounds that led out to the road. Glancing out Blair noted that the snow had finally tapered down to almost nothing. “How much snow do you think fell?” he asked as he looked at the quiet scene. For all its isolation there was something beautiful about the place and he could understand why a detective would come up here to camp. After the stress of the job this place was calming.

“Sixteen or eighteen inches,” Jim shrugged. “For the last hour there’s been no accumulation.” 

Blair nodded. “I can see why you bought this place. It must be great up here in the summer.”

“It is,” Jim agreed. “But I haven’t been here in the summer for five years. I didn’t want to take a chance of coming up here once the sentinel thing started. This was my backup bolt hole. I did get a couple of friends to check it out once or twice a year and make sure it was livable.” He paused and took a sip of coffee. “After five years of neglect, I’ve spent the last month fixing things and cleaning it.”

“I can imagine with your senses cleaning must have been a priority.” Jim nodded his agreement. 

“It gave me something to do.”

Blair considered the statement wondering what else Jim would do up here. A vacation up here was all fine and good but Jim was the kind of man driven by a need to do something useful and as a sentinel, to protect. He wouldn’t be happy up here once he ran out of projects. Maybe, if the CSG could get the man his loft back he’d come back down for the winter. 

“What happened to your loft?” Blair asked quietly.

“Brackett rented it out. Some couple has been living in it for the last almost two years. As a matter of fact, their lease is up in three months and I’ve written to them informing them that they should look for another place to live. I’m actually lucky he didn’t sell it. Brackett didn’t need it and as I was his property and lived how and where he saw fit, he figured I didn’t need it.”

Blair could again hear the bitterness in the reply but forged on anyway. “And the money from the rental?” Jim shrugged by way of answer. “If you registered with the CSG we could get our lawyers to seize his assets.”

“Sandburg, I could get my own damn lawyer. I’m not incompetent.” Jim practically growled dropping his fork to his almost empty plate.

“I never meant to suggest you were man. It’s just that we have people ready and able to help you.” 

Jim shook his head. “Let me give you a piece of advice. If you start acting as if you and your Center know what’s best for sentinels, we’ll disappear. The Institute did the same thing and you know how that ended.”

“Jim we’re not doing…” Blair began obviously distressed by the idea as his hands pushed back his long curly hair. Jim had already cataloged this as a sign of nervousness.

“Yeah you are Chief,” Jim cut in. “Take out the altruistic motives and listen to yourself. You are saying you and your Center can do better than we can. You are saying you know what’s best for sentinels. Sound familiar – that was the Institute’s claim. Next it will be mandated housing at the Center in a low sensory environment to keep our senses under control. Then guards to help and protect us and then cages.”

Blair looked up at Jim, his sapphire blue eyes wide with shock, hurt and maybe a touch of understanding and insight. “I would never let that happen,” he whispered as Jim watched him thoughtfully.

“You personally, no, but think what your successors will believe. Your actions are from the same underlying premise Sandburg. You think you know what’s best for us. On some level you think you are more competent and better able to judge our lives.”

Blair opened his mouth to argue than shut it. Frowning, food forgotten he got up and walked into the living room to look out the window at the snow. It was falling so lightly that it could barely be seen though every time the wind blew it would push the soft flakes around making it seem like more snow was falling. Thoughtfully, he watched the snow, his mind going over all he and the Center had done in the past two months. The CSG had supplied lawyers, doctors, and counselors for the sentinels. They had looked for and supported, pushed Blair’s mind cut in with some honesty, sentinels to find possible guides to support them. “But why,” he asked himself, “would sentinels need someone to find them guides? And why was it such a priority?” Hadn’t they been doing it naturally for thousands of years? Yes, the global society had made it more difficult to locate a guide but as Jim’s abilities could attest, a sentinel had other options while looking. But the CSG had exerted pressure on the newly released sentinels, pushing them almost insistently into finding guides. Blair hadn’t looked all that closely at his motives. However, he had foisted his own ideas on the sentinels pushing them to bond so someone could support and to some extent control them. The bond was not a tool for enslavement but in a bond both parties gave up some control to the other partner and Blair knew a guide could take control if the sentinel needed the support. And though he had never admitted it, he assumed the guide would take control of the sentinel. Sentinels in daily life, especially in urban environments were vulnerable but coming out of the Sentinel Institute they were doubly so. Looking at the CSG from Jim’s perspective, it had been working under the premise that it knew best.

But Blair wasn’t sure that in many cases the CSG didn’t’ know best, so he didn’t know how he could change the policy. He couldn’t leave the sentinels to fend for themselves, they were coming from a tortured background and needed support. And if what Jim said was right, training was a long involved process if a sentinel didn’t have a guide. It was a Catch 22; sentinels couldn’t control their senses without long involved training (assuming they could find trainers) or without guides.

Thinking all this over Blair finally turned back to Jim who had followed him into the living room. “You’re right. I can see we are sending a message that we know best. But right now for many of the sentinels we do know best. Not politically or financially,” he added as Jim’s jaw muscle twitched in what Blair guessed was annoyance, “but emotionally and psychologically.” He watched as Jim turned and walked to the fireplace adding another log to a fire he had started earlier that morning. “Even you Jim,” Blair added softly knowing the sentinel would hear him. “Look how isolated you are trying to live. It’s not healthy and it is a direct result of your three years in the Institute.”

“Different people take different routes to healing, Sandburg.”

“They do,” Blair greed, “but the CSG wants to help. It can speed the process.”

“As long as it doesn’t start mandating that help,” Jim agreed. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Blair nodded remembering a conversation just after the CSG had formed…A Dr. Sorenson had come to him to offer support. Dr. Sorenson was a psychiatrist who ran a small private sanitarium and had offered to open his doors to the sentinels. Blair remembered sitting across from the man and listening as the psychiatrist suggested mandating that sentinels register and go through mental screening to ensure they weren’t suicidal after their experiences. “Wouldn’t that be taking away their rights?” Blair had asked casually, watching as the psychiatrist leaned back in his seat with a look that suggested Blair was a child in need of educating.

“It would only be a screening process unless something serious turned up. And it would be for their own good,” the psychiatrist had answered. Blair had winced at the statement. It had been the Sentinel Institute’s argument for everything it did. “Consider it like a draft,” Dr. Sorenson had continued unaware of Blair’s thoughts, “They would be let go if they were healthy enough to reenter society.” 

Blair watching the man had gotten the image of a predator looking for its prey and made a notation on his form. “I’ll take that under advisement and remember your generous offer,” he had answered, all the while knowing he would reject Dr. Sorenson. Blair had the feeling the psychiatrist wanted some high profile test subjects. Most, if not all, of the sentinels would fail Sorenson’s screening process for just that reason whether they could function in society or not. Again, someone was looking to control sentinels for his/her own profit, offering it as good intentions...

Coming back to the present and looking back at Jim, Blair nodded. Walking by the fireplace and standing beside the sentinel, shoulder to shoulder, unconsciously moving into Jim’s personal space so their arms touched, he looked down watching the small sparks flying upwards, the heat of the flames, and the nearness of Jim warming him. His skin felt almost hot where it touched Jim’s and Blair felt a wave of desire pass over him but he clamped down on it trying to stay focused. “But what about you Jim?” he asked softly. “Don’t you want to come back to Cascade, be with friends?” Something in Blair acknowledged he wanted Jim to come back, to be close, for other reasons. He wanted Jim where he could see the man, often. He was well aware of the fact the he felt attracted to this man and that attraction went beyond anything he had ever felt for a man or woman before. 

Jim turned and glanced at the young man beside him, knowing this was his guide, knowing Blair must feel the attraction but not understand the implications, knowing he had to be careful about physical contact with the beautiful, young anthropologist until Blair was ready to accept his own role. “I’m not ready to come back Blair. Maybe in three months when I get my loft back, we’ll see. And I do have friends, some actually visit from Cascade. I’ve seen the Major Crimes squad in the last two months, so I am not alone licking my wounds.” As he said this Jim moved slightly away, severing the physical contact and Blair suddenly felt as if he had lost something. 

“I didn’t mean to imply…”

“Yes, you did,” Jim answered but smiled softening the criticism and Blair had automatically smiled back. 

With a nod of agreement, Blair turned back to the couch picking up his legal pad and wishing he had brought his laptop. Looking at his very sparse notes he again looked at Jim. “Could I convince you to come down for a short trip to just look over the CSG? Maybe give me some feedback on how to make it better for sentinels? The CSG would pay for your food and expenses, a hotel or…”

“Chief this is where I live. Once my loft is vacated then I’ll see how I feel about coming back to Cascade. In the meantime, this is home and I would appreciate it if you would drop this discussion.”

Blair looked away blushing. “Sorry,” he whispered knowing he was pushing and would continue to push despite the heartfelt apology as Jim turned and went to clean up the kitchen.

***Part Six – The Search

An hour later the kitchen was spotless and Jim sat at the table, staring out at the snow covered landscape and sipping his third cup of coffee, glad for the time alone. He liked Blair and the feelings could probably go much deeper if Blair took up the mantle of guide but Jim still needed time alone to sort out his thoughts. The pull of the bond was becoming stronger with Blair sharing the same space and Jim needed to rein in his senses. He could feel the attraction, every sense locking on the anthropologist. He didn’t even need to concentrate to tell that Blair was in the living room writing on his legal pad, his pulse slow and steady. That thought brought a smile to Jim’s lips. The young man was a bundle of energy and enthusiasm. Jim was fairly certain Blair wasn’t finished pitching the idea of Jim returning to Cascade and registering with the CSG. However, Blair’s motives were a bit murky though Jim was sure Blair didn’t realize it. Yes, the anthropologist wanted to help Jim and other sentinels but Blair was feeling the attraction and the guide in him did not want to let Jim go. Jim supposed he should tell Blair what was happening but he hesitated. He didn’t want to force Blair into taking a role he wasn’t ready for. 

Still sipping the coffee he thought about going out and clearing his car now that the storm had ended but stopped, putting down his coffee cup and frowning as a sound caught his attention. A vehicle was driving down this way and making for the farmhouse. Despite what he told Blair, Jim hadn’t had all that many visitors in the month and half he had been here. Simon and Joel had come up once for a weekend and his brother Steven had come once, bringing all the papers Jim needed to reclaim his property. He had even brought Jim’s estranged father but it had been an uncomfortable visit and Steven and William Ellison had left the next day with a lot of well wishes but little hope of resolving their relationships. So, a vehicle heading for the farmhouse through the snow could only be equated with some form of trouble in Jim’s book as he walked into the living room and opened the door to stand and look out. Blair looked up at his silhouette in the door and came to stand by his side shivering slightly at the blast of cold air coming through the open door.

“You hear or see something strange?” he asked looking and seeing nothing different but having spent years studying sentinels knew he could rely on a sentinel’s senses to see and hear what he couldn’t.

Jim nodded. “Yeah someone is heading here.” They watched expectantly and a few minutes later a large 4x4 pulled up in front of the house. Jim stepping out and standing on the porch, arms crossed, watched as an older man exited the car and came to stand in front of him.

“Mr. Ellison?” he asked hesitantly. “Could I have a minute of your time?”

“Sheriff Mason, isn’t it?” Jim asked as he stepped back opening the door wider and indicating Mason should enter. The sheriff did, standing just inside the door where his snow covered boots would do the least damage, his eyes looking over Blair before settling on Jim.

“I…um…,” the sheriff removed his glasses and wiped them on his jacket and then grimaced at how wet they were when he put them back on. It was obvious the man had been out in the snow all morning, his jacket was soaked through and Jim could see the sheriff’s minute shivers from the cold. Taking a breath he smiled at Jim. “We know you’re a sentinel Mr. Ellison and we need your help.” He glanced at Jim trying to gauge a reaction but Jim just stared back waiting expectantly, his face politely blank. Finally the sheriff continued hesitantly. “There was an accident down on route 15, mother and daughter in a car that slid over an embankment. We found the car this morning. We got the mother to the hospital but the daughter wandered off and with the storm and all, we can’t find her.” The sheriff pulled off his hat pushing down his short white hair as he looked down at the hat in his shaking hands, trying to calm his breathing. “The girl is three and we’re concerned that she could die of exposure. Our dogs couldn’t pick up her scent because of the wet snow and the tracks are covered and even with the deputies combing the area, we’re not sure we can find her in time.” Slowly tortured eyes looked at Jim and the man swallowed trying to hold back tears. “She’s my granddaughter,” he whispered his voice cracking with emotions he was trying to contain. Self consciously Sheriff Mason wiped his eyes. “I was thinking if you could help us, time is a factor.” There was such a look of longing in his eyes that Blair beside Jim almost answered for him but stopped himself and turned to look at the sentinel.

Jim nodded. “I’ll come and do what I can Sheriff but you have to understand I don’t have a guide. It will to some extent hamper my abilities.” Mason nodded as Jim turned and headed for his bedroom to grab his wallet. When he returned Blair was standing by the door – coat on, the sheriff already making his way to the 4x4. “Chief?”

“I want to help Jim. You said I was a guide, maybe I could help you with your senses.” He looked hopeful and Jim smiled at the upturned expectant face. “I don’t know how,” Blair admitted softly, “but I’d like to try.”

Jim considered this momentarily as he turned to grab a jacket and then thoughtfully grabbed two. He knew Blair helping him could start a bond and Jim had to warn Blair about that first. He wouldn’t let the anthropologist walk blindly into the sentinel guide world. Walking over Jim tossed a jacket to Blair before closing and locking the door. “Your clothes aren’t heavy enough to wear,” he declared and the two made their way to Sheriff Mason’s truck, Blair climbing in the back as Jim sat down beside the sheriff.

“Thank you Mr. Ellison,” he whispered as he turned the truck and headed down the road. “I couldn’t think what to do and then I remembered our meeting in town last week and thought of you.” 

“I’ll do what I can Sheriff,” Jim answered with a gentleness in his voice the anthropologist hadn’t heard before. Blair guessed this was Jim Ellison, sentinel and protector of his tribe.

The ride up to route 15 took about 20 minutes and Blair tried to ask Jim several times about guiding along the way, but Jim stopped him each time saying, “Wait till we’re there Chief.” Jim was hoping he wouldn’t need Blair’s help because if he did, Jim was going to have to explain the possible consequences.

Pulling up at the edge of the embankment in front of two police cars, a tow truck and a fire engine, all with flashing blue and red lights, Sheriff Mason looked at the scene while Jim did his best to ignore the flashing lights. Spot lights were trained on the ground as highway patrols stood ready to direct traffic and an ambulance waited nearby. Jim and the Sheriff both stepped out of the truck, Jim pulling his jacket closed as Sheriff Mason asked for an update. Jim could hear the patrolmen answer that they were still searching as he walked to the edge of the embankment and looked down, Blair coming to stand beside him. He noted Blair had switched his coat for Jim’s warmer one before slowly making his way down the side, using a rope someone had tied to the embankment to keep from sliding on the slippery slope. Making the bottom Jim ignored the curious looks of the few patrolmen and firemen scattered about and moved to look at the car resting on its side, windows smashed, frame mangled by the fall. There was blood on the snow, Jim could clearly see it, mostly around the driver’s side but there were small traces leading from the back window out. Glancing up as Sheriff Mason slowly lowered himself using the rope Jim watched as he moved near several patrolmen and whispered the word “sentinel.” At that all eyes turned to him a hush falling over the men. Though all the patrolmen had heard of sentinels, few had ever seen a sentinel and certainly never one in action and they watched with curiosity and wonder but all took a step back to give Jim space.

“How is your daughter?” Jim asked Mason trying to ignore the fact that every eye was on him as he hunched down to get a look at the ground by the back door. 

“A few broken bones, a lot of stitches but she should make a full recovery.” Jim nodded and walked around the car slowly before looking in the back window. The car seat lay on its side, a small package of crackers scattered over the padding and floor and Jim sighed taking a step back and looking again at the ground around the car before letting his eyes sweep the distance.

Blair having come down the slope came up beside him and quietly called his name, a hand landing on Jim’s arm. Blair didn’t consider his actions, but touch was the most basic tool of a guide and Jim focused on the touch before realizing what he was doing and pulling away. “Can I help you?” Blair asked softly, not sure how.

“I’ll head into the trees first and see if I can find anything if not I’ll call for your help.”

“But wouldn’t it be easier and quicker if I helped?” Jim glanced at the anthropologist and pulled him closer leaning down into his personal space, out of earshot of the troopers and emergency personnel. 

“Chief you are more than just a guide, you are a compatible guide. I could tell from the first time we touched. If you help it could start a bond,” he warned. “Let me try and see if I can do this first.”

Blair stared at Jim wide eyed, not yet able to even think about much less process all that Jim had told him but trying to keep focused on the present situation. “How will I know if you can’t?”

“If I feel myself zoning I’ll call you and if I go into a zone just come and pull me out.”

“How?’

“Easy, talk to me, touch me, hell if necessary slap me, but don’t go overboard Sandburg,” Jim warned with a quick smile as he released the younger man and strode toward the trees. 

Sheriff Mason having watched the pair stepped close to Blair. “Are you his guide?” he whispered softly as he watched Jim’s retreating back.

“Not yet, but I might be very soon,” Blair answered deciding to stay close to the sentinel and following Jim as he made his way towards the trees, the sentinel’s eyes on the ground.

To Blair, watching a sentinel at work was an amazing sight and he always felt awed watching a guardian use his or her senses. The sentinel opening up his senses was so powerful and yet so vulnerable. Thinking over Jim’s admission, Blair wondered if these feelings were some innate part of being a guide. Jim’s guide! He paused for one moment thinking over the idea. It terrified him and excited him at the same time. If they bonded, they would be sentinel and guide paired for life. They would work together, possibly live together and maybe even share an intimate relationship, Blair paused thinking over the idea. The intimate relationship was a possibility, not a given and Blair hoped but wasn’t sure Jim would be interested in that type of relationship, but no matter what they would WORK TOGETHER! And with that thought Blair’s mind jumped to rapid and excited conclusions about what that would entail. Working together meant Jim would have to come back to Cascade, they couldn’t be bonded and have Jim living almost 120 miles away and they would have to find some common working ground. Jim would in all likelihood want to go back to working as a detective and Blair could support him in that role, maybe as a ride along, as long as Jim understood he would have to support Blair’s work at the CSG as well. It would be a symbiotic relationship and everyone would win, especially other sentinels if they both worked part time helping the other. Blair could set a schedule around Jim’s work at the PD for him to interview guide candidates and he would have to register with the CSG, that in and of itself would bring in reluctant sentinels. Most of the sentinels Blair had interviewed had looked up to Jim as a leader and would follow his example if he registered with the CSG and they would know it was a safe haven if he were bonded to the CSG’s head.

Blair realized that having a bond, hell going out of his way to form one in order to get Jim back to Cascade and into the CSG was using and manipulating Jim. But he rationalized that he wasn’t actually manipulating a sentinel for his own purposes, he was manipulating Jim, a man, and hopefully soon to be lover. The distinction was splitting hairs, he knew that, but it would be the best thing for Jim and Blair decided the ends would justify the means in this particular case. Deciding this, Blair took some deep breaths to calm himself before he strode forward to stand behind Jim as the sentinel scanned the bushes and tree line along the old country road.

Just inside the tree line, Jim stopped and called to the sheriff shaking Blair from his thoughts and bringing him, the sheriff and the deputies closer. “She went into the trees just here,” he pointed as the sheriff and several troopers rushed over looking at a hitherto unnoticed strand of long blonde hair caught on a low piece of shrubbery. “How far back do these woods go?” Jim asked looking around.

“Thirty or forty miles,” one of the troopers answered. “All the way around the Cascades.” 

Jim nodded his eyes on the ground. Crouching down he lifted three small stones, rolling them back and forth through the long fine boned fingers of his right hand as he gazed around and Blair remembering what Jim had said about piggybacking one sense on another realized that Jim was using the stones to keep from zoning. In the back of his mind Blair wondered what other tricks Jim had learned from the Chopec shaman. Stepping forward, knowing continued contact would push the forging of a bond he reached a hand out, meaning to push the stones out of Jim’s hand and replace them with his own hand. But just as his hand neared Jim’s, as he watched his own trembling fingers reach out, he heard Dr. Sorenson’s voice in his head saying, “…it would be for their own good.” And in his mind’s eye he could see the hungry look of the psychiatrist. Pausing, he took another shaky breath. What was he thinking? He couldn’t manipulate people like this. It would be totally wrong; he would be as bad as Sorenson if he pushed the bond so he could use Jim. Not giving himself a second to reconsider he dropped his hand and watched as Jim, unaware of Blair’s internal struggle and secret battle, walked forward, slowly, eyes on the shrubs.

Crouching low, he let his hand run over the ground for a moment and then turned to the assembled men behind him. “Everyone stays behind me and follows my path. I can’t have people messing the trail any more than they already have,” he ordered and the sheriff nodded as he and the troopers took a step back. Seeing his order obeyed, Jim took a few steps forward, the small stones rattling in his fingers as he moved forward.

For the next three hours the men followed Jim as he slowly made his way forward, many times doubling back and changing direction as he kept his eyes on the ground and the stones firmly in his hand. Every once in a while he would stand still and tilt his head as he stared around the densely wooded area before stepping forward or crouching down to touch the ground. Blair, watching, wanted to ask so many questions. He had seen sentinels using their abilities mostly in labs under testing conditions identifying sounds, smells, etc. but never like this, in such a meaningful and concentrated long process where the information was being evaluated and sorted continuously and he realized he was learning more about sentinels in one day than he had learned in all his years of studying sentinels. Through the whole process, Blair stayed just behind him with the sheriff and the other troopers almost in single file stayed further back. To Blair, it looked like a mother cat with its kittens following as the cat hunted. Certainly, Jim had the grace of a feline and the drive of a predator.

Four hours into the search, Blair could see the sheriff’s frustration and anxiety as Jim stopped yet again and put a restraining hand on the older man. “He has to use his senses,” Blair whispered softly and Mason nodded as Jim, head tilted, slowly turned in a circle before light blue eyes turned to Mason.

“I hear her,” he said softly and Mason caught his breath, eagerly stepping forward, a question on his lips as Jim held up a hand. Jim turned and began to walk slowly at first and then more briskly for almost another half a mile towards an outcropping of rocks and boulders, his eyes following the line of stone down at the base where the stones met the cold ground. “She’s hiding in the rocks,” he said as he neared a large formation and looked at a small opening near the base of some boulders that overlapped. Indicating the spot, he turned to Mason. “Call her, tell her you’re here and tell her to come out.”

Eagerly, Mason dropped to his knees by the small opening and looked in seeing only darkness. “Stacy,” he called trying to keep his voice calm so as not to scare the child. “Stacy, it’s Grandpa. Can you hear me?” His words sounded strange echoing inside the boulders and for a minute as silence followed he thought Jim was wrong about Stacy’s location. But then a small blonde head popped out of the very small opening and large hazel eyes stared up at Sheriff Mason.

“Poppy?” she asked.

Mason nodded tears in his eyes. “Come on out baby, I’m going to take you home.” He watched as the little girl scrambled out and stood. She had some cuts and scrapes, a few tears in her clothes and there were leaves and dirt in her hair but she looked reasonably healthy as she slid into her grandfather’s arms.

“Poppy there was an accident. I went to get help but it was cold and dark and I got scared.” Mason nodded as one of the troopers handed him a blanket to cover the child and he lifted Stacy into his arms.

“You did good baby. And Mommy is going to be okay too. Let’s go to the hospital and see her.” As he said this he turned and looked at Jim. “Thank you, Mr. Ellison. If there is ever anything I can do in return, let me know. I can never do enough to pay back for what you did.” Shifting the little girl in his arms he started back Jim watching him go as Blair stepped forward to stand beside him.

“That was amazing, man,” he whispered a hand reaching out to give Jim’s shoulder a friendly punch. 

Jim shrugged. “I see a little better and hear a little better that’s all it is Chief, the rest is all smoke and mirrors.”

Blair rolled his eyes at the sentinel. “That’s like saying the QE2 is just a little motorboat.”

Jim shook his head dismissively trying to ignore just how tired he was after such extended use of his senses, sans guide. It wasn’t easy continuously processing the overwhelming input. The concentration needed to keep from zoning while opening all his senses and sorting all the information was exhausting but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and Blair couldn’t help but smile back. “But they’re both just holes in the water, Sandburg. Come on, we better start back or we’ll lose our ride.”

It may have taken four hours for Jim to find Stacy but going back went much faster and the men arrived back at the accident site in just under two hours. Stacy and the sheriff were immediately whisked into the ambulance and one of the patrolmen offered Jim and Blair a lift home. 

Blair was more than happy with the idea of getting home. He could see Jim was tired and suspected that sentinel was nursing a killer headache. He had asked Jim several times on the way back how he was feeling, seeing how pale Jim was and how he plodded forward without his usual grace, but the sentinel had shrugged off the question several times before finally answering, “It’s not easy processing all the information I took in without a guide for grounding but a good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine.”

So, Jim had nodded at the offer of a lift and moved over to lean against one of the patrol cars to wait for the trooper while trying to keep some distance from Blair. He was just too tired to fight off a bond and the guide’s scent was becoming dangerously enticing as Blair hovered nearby watching Jim’s pinched face with some concern as a headache flared behind the sentinel’s eyes. Closing his eyes momentarily as his hearing gave a small spike after its continuous use in the woods Jim could hear the patrolman chatting some distance away. It was then Jim heard one of the troopers say he was heading for Cascade and Jim knowing he was reaching the point where he couldn’t stop a bond and suspecting Blair was beginning to feel the bonding urge turned to his young companion. “Blair I think I can get you a lift home. One of the troopers is heading that way.” 

Blair looked up at Jim biting his lip, some part of him wanted to go home but another part wanted to stay with Jim and not just because he was worried about the sentinel. The two desires warred within him and he debated which to choose. But the decision was made for him when Jim strode over to Patrolman Andres Morales and mentioned Blair’s car troubles and the need for a lift. The patrolman was happy to offer the anthropologist a lift; he looked forward to the company on the long ride to Cascade. In any case after watching a sentinel in action the patrolman wanted to learn more about sentinels and so he drove the pair to Jim’s cabin where Blair gathered his few belongings while Morales waited in the car. Finishing his gathering, Blair looked at the sentinel thoughtfully, knowing he didn’t want to leave the man here. Not only was his job not done but something deeper demanded that he stay close to Jim and he suddenly found leaving a difficult prospect. 

“Jim, can’t I can convince you to come back with me; at least for a little while? I could return the favor and let you stay with me.”

“No Chief, I’m not ready,” Jim answered with a gentle smile and Blair smiled back.

“But you will come when your loft is empty?” he asked and Jim nodded. It really wasn’t what Blair wanted to say. He wanted to ask if he could come back and stay with Jim again but fearing rejection and knowing he had been an unwanted intruder to begin with he said nothing as he lifted his backpack and looked at the sentinel. “I’ll visit you in Cascade then,” Blair promised and turned to the door. But turning back he again addressed the sentinel, “If you change your mind,” he left the statement unfinished and Jim nodded watching him walk out the door.

***Part Seven – Learning About the Past

It was late evening when Patrolman Andres Morales dropped Blair off at his warehouse apartment. The patrolman who had learned the history of sentinels from an enthusiastic Dr. Blair Sandburg on the way to Cascade looked over the apartment building, actually a warehouse that Blair lived in and offered to go in and check out the place – with gun drawn. 

Blair smiled and shook his head and then taking his backpack headed into his home glad to be out of the car. He showered, caught up on his messages and jotted down some notes for work the next day before deciding to call it a night. He knew without a car, he would have to leave extra early the next morning to make it into work. But sleep was long in coming that night. He felt like he had left something behind, the kind of feeling people have when they wonder if the stove was left on and want to go home and check. It was an annoying sensation and somewhat unsettling and his sleep when he finally did drop off was full of strange dreams that involved blue jungles, a gray wolf and a black jaguar.

Blair wasn’t exactly rested when he walked into work Monday morning but he smiled at his secretary Mrs. Glassbaum who rose from her desk and followed him in to the office handing him a cup of coffee. “I see you weathered the storm,” she remarked as she looked at Blair. “How did things go with Jim Ellison?”

“Not as well as I wanted,” Blair admitted taking a sip of the coffee before putting it down and reaching for his backpack and starting to pull notes out of it. “He didn’t agree to register.”

“Richard said he was difficult,” the secretary reminded Blair.

“Well he was,” Blair paused in his motion and gave a soft smile as he considered his weekend and then shook his head clear and looked at the older woman. “But he did let me stay a night at his place. My car wouldn’t start in the storm and he came to the rescue. As a matter of fact, the Volvo is still up there.”

“He drove you back down?”

“No, a state trooper did.”

“A state trooper?” the woman repeated with a complete lack of understanding.

“Long story, I’ll explain later,” Blair answered. “But I need more information on Ellison if I’m going to coax him back to Cascade.”

“The court records are sealed,” the secretary reminded him and Blair nodded.

“Yeah they are but Brackett’s mouth isn’t. See if you can get me an appointment with the man. Talk to the prison warden.” He paused at the woman’s puzzled expression. Blair had never gone this far to get a sentinel’s history before. Seeing the expression Blair shrugged, “I need him to come back. He’s more than just a sentinel; he was trained by a shaman. The Center needs him.” He didn’t add and tried to dismiss the idea that he wanted Jin here, close by where he could see him. That wasn’t the reason for pushing this agenda, he told himself. He just needed Jim to help with guides and training and because Jim shouldn’t be alone up in the mountains.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she answered heading back to her desk still somewhat surprised by Blair’s actions and Blair smiled. Mrs. Glassbaum was incredibly competent; if anyone could get him an appointment with Brackett it would be the middle aged secretary.

Mrs. Glassbaum lived up to her reputation contacting the prison warden and making the necessary arrangements for Blair to visit the penitentiary on Wednesday and Blair decided he would pick up his Volvo Wednesday morning and then head over to see Brackett.

Having settled this he checked on his latest sentinel guide pairings all the while wondering what being a guide truly meant. If he really was a guide, Jim’s guide, how could he guide him? Burton had been somewhat vague about the role of the guide. Deciding once he got Jim in his clutches he would make sure Jim explained it to him and other sentinels and guides, Blair finished out the day of work. That night he went out to dinner with Richard buying the man dinner in return for a lift up to his car on Wednesday. Going home alone after the dinner he continued to have a vague unease like he had forgotten something or lost something and he was just a bit more jumpy the next day but attributed that to some nervousness about seeing Brackett. Calling the mechanic who had his car he confirmed that the part had come in and the vehicle would be ready for pick up on Wednesday. Trying to keep his mind on tasks at hand, Blair interviewed would be guides but in the back of his mind he kept wondering would Jim approve these candidates.

Wednesday morning Blair, not looking at all rested, set off early with Richard who took him to get his car and Blair was tempted to make a detour to see Jim when he picked up his car but he knew he didn’t have time. So when Richard dropped him off he drove straight from the mechanic to the federal penitentiary and met with the warden. Warden Green was a no nonsense man and giving Blair an amicable greeting, a strong handshake and a cup of coffee looked over Blair thoughtfully.

“Dr. Sandburg,” he took a seat behind his impressively large desk and indicated Blair should sit before turning intelligent dark brown eyes on the anthropologist. “You wanted to meet with Lee Brackett. May I ask why?”

Blair nodded. “I’m trying to get information about Sentinel Jim Ellison.”

“I see,” the warden sat back thoughtfully. “You do realize if Brackett admitted to anything he would be opening himself to litigation. So I can’t see why he would cooperate with you.”

“Perhaps if he answered questions off the record,” Blair suggested his hands fiddling nervously with the hem of his vest. He needed this information and had to find some way to coax it from the rogue operative. “I’m not here to prosecute. That would have to be instituted by Jim Ellison but I need to know what happened between them.”

The warden sighed. “He is not a cooperative prisoner. Unless you can offer him something I doubt you will get information.”

Blair nodded his understanding thinking over his assets. He doubted money would be an incentive but maybe something he could trade in the prison, “Any idea what I could offer?”

The warden considered the anthropologist for a few minutes and then asked, “Is this important?” At Blair’s nod he looked down at the file on his desk that read Brackett, Lee, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “He is in solitary. For his cooperation I’d give him an hour’s yard privileges daily. You can broker the deal on my behalf.”

“You think he’d go for it?”

“In all probability,” the warden answered. 

Blair smiled and nodded, “Thank you Warden,” he watched the man stand and extend a hand which Blair shook.

“Ellison was a good cop who put a few prisoners in this place, Dr. Sandburg. If I can do something to help him I would. It was a shame what happened to the sentinels.” He looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook his head focusing on Blair. “I’ve set up an interview room. I’ll have him brought in. Good luck Dr. Sandburg.”

Blair thanked the warden again and then was led to a small room with a table and two chairs. He took a seat and watched riveted as a handcuffed and shackled Lee Brackett was escorted into the room and seated at the table by two guards before they left closing the door behind them.

Blair had seen many pictures of Brackett after his conviction but the grainy newspaper photos were nothing like the real thing. The man was good looking, tall and well proportioned with brown hair that framed a pleasant, shaved face and strong chin. His eyes were light and reflected the deep seated intelligence that had been evident in his education at Yale and his early career in the CIA and despite the shackles he carried himself with an air of confidence and oddly authority.

Looking over at Blair, Brackett said nothing but leaned back in his seat seemingly comfortable with his surroundings.

“Mr. Brackett,” Blair began. “My name is…”

“I know who you are Dr. Sandburg. I do read.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you don’t,” Blair answered. 

“So what do you want?” Lee Brackett asked and Blair fidgeted pulling out a legal pad and pen.

“I’d like some information on Jim Ellison. You were given custody of him and…”

“Why?”

Blair looked over Brackett. “I’m trying to help the man and…”

Before he could get any further Brackett tossed his head back and laughed but the sound was anything but pleasant to Blair’s ears. “You think Ellison needs your help? That’s a laugh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ellison is a hard nut. I couldn’t crack him,” he shrugged. “If I couldn’t, I doubt he needs your help. So give me another line.” 

Blair practically glared at Brackett in annoyance but finally dropped his eyes back down to his legal pad. “Jim Ellison was trained to be a sentinel,” Blair admitted at last. “I…the CSG needs him.”

“And just why should I care? If I admit to anything I’ll be incriminating myself.”

Blair glanced over at Brackett looking into the admittedly handsome face and thinking the man had tortured Jim. Something in him practically screamed at him to throttle the man. The desire was so great he curled his fingers around the table edge and took a deep breath. “I’m not here to prosecute you. We can discuss this in hypotheticals.”

“And why exactly should I help you or him. He after all put me in this hell hole.”

Blair considered the question for a moment. “What if I could offer you some incentive?” he tried to keep his voice light.

“Time off my sentence?” Brackett asked and Blair shook his head no.

“Never gonna happen man and you know it. How about daily yard privileges?”

“You can get that?”

“The warden agreed,” Blair nodded and watched Brackett consider him thoughtfully. Finally, Brackett nodded. “We are talking hypothetically,” he repeated and Blair nodded his agreement as Brackett leaned forward to watch Blair closely as he began his narrative. “Ellison was in the institute for six months,” he said his voice soft before a smile of amusement crossed his features. “I’m actually the one responsible for his capture. I debriefed him after Peru, his senses had come online but I didn’t say anything until I realized how useful a sentinel could be.” Blair looked down at his paper unable to even watch the man who had tried so hard to manipulate Jim’s life. Something in Blair told him as this tale progressed he would end up a lot more unhappy as Brackett smiled maliciously.

Brackett watching Blair looked smug as he continued. “The Institute had been trying for six months to break Ellison’s will when I came back into the picture. You should be aware of some of their techniques; you have interviewed and worked with other sentinels.” He watched Blair nod still looking down at his notes and leaned forward so he could get a clearer view of Blair’s face as he continued. “The director of the Institute, Shaver was his name, mentioned that they had even used a cattle prod on him.” Blair looked up in shock his face going white. Using a cattle prod on someone with heightened senses was insane, it could cause a zone out so deep the person could be lost forever especially if the sentinel were guideless and had no one to bring him out of the zone. With shaking hands Blair made note of the fact as Brackett continued. “They half starved him, lashed him, beat him,” the one time CIA operative shrugged his indifference despite the fact that Blair was getting more and more upset or possibly in response to the fact that the anthropologist was getting more upset. “Finally, they threw him down in the dungeon.”

“The dungeon,” Blair whispered his voice clipped to keep it steady. Blair knew from the trial that twelve sentinels had died in the deplorable conditions of the Sentinel Institute basement cells, nicknamed the dungeon.

Brackett nodded. “They figured they’d just let him rot there and that’s when I came in,” Brackett whispered closing his eyes to better remember the scene, amusement flickering across his features…

Director Shaver looked over at the CIA representative as they walked through the institute halls. Once in a while, a guard would pass, sometimes leading a sentinel on a leash, the sentinel two steps behind with his head down. The halls were clean and quiet with low lighting as Brackett looked around. “Where are the sentinels kept?” he asked.

The director turned and looked at him. “It depends on how cooperative they are.” He pulled out a ring of keys and opened the door to room 21 just off the main corridor. Inside was a bed, a toilet and a sink. Other than that it was bare and Brackett noticed there were no doorknobs on the inside, it was nothing more than a cell. “A cooperative sentinel gets a room like this.” The director watched closely to see if Brackett would react to the fact that a cooperative sentinel was put in a cell but the CIA representative seemed merely curious. “Uncooperative sentinels have less comfortable accommodations, their privileges taken away until they learn.” 

He turned another corner and passed through an outer office with a deep piled rug, nodding to his secretary and opened the door to his own office. Opulent would be a good description of the room with its paneled walls, oriental rug, mahogany desk and backlit wet bar. Walking over to the bar the director offered and at Brackett’s nod, poured two glasses of 30 year old scotch handing one to Brackett before taking a seat in a soft leather chair and indicating Brackett should take the other.

“So Mr. Brackett how can we help you?”

“When I informed you of Ellison’s status as a sentinel I told you I would be coming to get him.”

“You did,” the director agreed. He took a sip of his scotch and shook his head. “Unfortunately, I don’t think he is ready for a guardian yet.”

“You said you could break him and you’ve had him for six months.” 

The director nodded and chose his next words carefully. “He is proving, difficult.”

“Maybe you should try stronger incentives,” Brackett countered and the director stood and returned with a file from his desk.

“We’ve shocked him, beaten him, half starved him and kept him in the dungeon.”

“Dungeon?”

The director looked up and met Brackett’s gaze. “Our nickname for the basement rooms,” he explained. “They are not as pleasant as the rooms you’ve seen.” Brackett waved a hand and the director continued. “We have gotten minimal cooperation at best, ongoing defiance despite the conditions and to be perfectly honest, I am afraid he will not break to our conditioning. But you understand there are limits to what we can do. We do have certain physical limits we can’t exceed. We cannot afford public scrutiny.”

“Have you tried rape?” Brackett asked.

“No, we don’t want to interfere with bonding. That’s the one thing we will not tolerate from a guard. We might turn our head at a forced blow job but penetration is prohibited. It could lessen the profits if a sentinel can’t be bonded and let’s face it a guard can’t afford the price of a sentinel.”

“And you don’t think Ellison will break?” Brackett repeated with a sneer thinking over his timetable and wondering if another sentinel would do.

“Perhaps you would like to try?” the director challenged softly and Brackett considered it. 

“Maybe I should,” he agreed. “I could hardly do worse.” He downed his scotch and stood putting down his glass. “I want to see him.”

“I can have him brought up but he might need cleaning,” the director answered with something bordering on disgust.

“No, I want to see him in the dungeon.” The director considered this momentarily and then nodded.

“If you wish, but understand its location is part of our most serious punishment. It won’t be pleasant.” Stepping out of his office he walked to an elevator at the end of the hall, Brackett following and inserted a key to what was obviously a private elevator. The door opened and the two entered going down two levels below ground level. As the elevator descended, the director reached into his pocket and pulled out a scented handkerchief placing it against his nose in preparation for the dungeon. “I suggest you prepare yourself,” he advised as the door opened. The two men stepped out of the elevator Brackett wrinkling his nose at the smell of human waste and making an effort to breathe through his mouth, a hand covering his nose, as he followed the director down the hall to cell four.

It was little more than a cage with a cement floor and the director reached over hitting a light switch that flooded the cell with light. In one corner was a slop bucket and in the other chained to the wall by a collar locked around his neck a naked Jim Ellison sat on the cold concrete floor. He was filthy and covered in lesions, his senses obviously giving him trouble and Brackett looked him over with interest but Jim still defiant looked up and glared at the director and Brackett blinking in the bright light.

“Hello Ellison,” Brackett said softly. “Long time no see,” he said with amusement as he noted the sentinel looked thinner than Brackett remembered and the CIA operative turned to the director. “Are you feeding him? He’s no use to me starved to the point that he can’t function.”

“He gets two meals a day full of nutrients and protein,” the director answered not explaining the type of protein. “And we check him regularly for worms,” he added with amusement.

Brackett smiled at that. “Good,” he considered his options. He could get another sentinel but something in the agent took malicious pleasure in the idea of breaking Ellison. “Get him ready. I’ll be picking him up in a week,” Brackett started to turn away but then turned back and glanced over Jim’s naked form. “And have him tested for worms again. I don’t want to have to deal with them.”

For the next week Brackett picked up specialized equipment he would need to handle his soon to be ward and then returned to the institute where he was handed Jim’s leash. Brackett again looked over the man. His hands were chained to a belt to keep him from fighting but he was clean and dressed. Actually, Brackett realized Ellison had cleaned up fairly well and he signed the “adoption” papers taking possession of the sentinel and his finances.

“I wish you good luck with your sentinel Mr. Brackett,” the director said as he took an envelope from Brackett loaded with 100 dollar bills. “If you need support with him let us know. The dungeon is always a viable option.”

“Thank you,” Brackett yanked on the chain leading Jim out of the institute. It was the first time Jim had seen sunlight in six months.

Blair had taken notes as he listened to Brackett’s memories and now looked at the former CIA operative trying to hide just how much he hated the man. “What happened once Jim Ellison became your ward,” he asked trying to keep his voice calm despite the fact that he wanted to break both the director’s and Brackett’s necks.

Brackett tried to spread his hands but they were shackled and he ended up dropping them back to the table. “The first week I tried to form a bond thinking it would make controlling him easier. I must have fucked him every night for a week.”

“You raped Jim,” Blair whispered and Brackett nodded.

“I tried using drugs to make him receptive, I even played with his dick to make him cum while I raped him. But no bond formed.”

“It wouldn’t,” Blair answered softly trying to keep his voice calm and even, though he could feel himself shaking. “Bonds aren’t formed by sex.”

“That’s not what the Institute said,” Brackett clarified. “But it didn’t work.” Brackett watched the anthropologist thoughtfully. “Beyond that it was the usual. I kept him in a large cage in the living room, kept his hands tied to a belt, leashed him when I took him out. I’ll admit I tried and failed to break him. I’d make him eat from my hand, whip him for insubordination, gag him when he became insubordinate, rape him,” Brackett shrugged indifferently, “but it didn’t work for me any more than for the Institute. Ellison was trained to be a covert officer and knew how to survive brain washing and torture. And truthfully, I couldn’t afford to let him get too damaged; if I did he would be of no use. Maybe if I had some help I could have tried sleep deprivation but considering what I was using Ellison for I couldn’t enroll others.”

Brackett sighed and looked at Blair. “When I couldn’t get his cooperation I decided to use blackmail. The Ebola was going to be a threat to get him to help me steal a prototype plane but I under estimated Ellison. Despite the fact that he was always on a leash and locked up, he got word to Major Crimes and stopped me. Truthfully I have to admire that about him. The man is driven.” Brackett shrugged. “Have you learned enough?”

Blair looked at his notes to keep from looking at the rogue agent while he schooled his features and then looked up nodding his head. “The warden will see to your yard privileges,” he whispered softly. “But I will say I hope you rot in a cell.”

Brackett smiled. “We’ll see,” he answered and watched Blair stand and move to the door. “But I will tell you,” he added watching the stiff movements of the young man. “He was a good fuck.”

On his way out, Blair stopped back to see the warden. Warden Green glanced over Blair’s tight lipped white face as he came out of his office to say good-bye and nodded his head. “He cooperated,” he stated.

“Yeah, he did,” Blair answered quietly. 

“Sometimes it is better when they don’t. Then you can live in denial, not really sure.”

Blair considered this then nodded. “Thank you Warden Green,” he extended his hand. “I hope some day Jim prosecutes him for this but I guess in a way it won’t make any difference. He’s already in prison for life.”

“Detective Ellison may not believe it but prosecuting Brackett could help him bring closure to the experience. Unfortunately, he would have to relive the details and share them. It’s the sharing of the indignities done to him that would be hardest. He would have to admit to being a victim though I must say mentally he probably was more secure and less of a victim than many other sentinels.”

“How can you say that Brackett…”

“Dr. Sandburg,” the warden cut him off before he could say what was done to Jim. “I know what was done to some of the sentinels. I have two men locked up in here for murdering their sentinels and perhaps that was the least offensive of their crimes. But unlike them Ellison was able to fight back and win. He obviously didn’t feel robbed of all his power else he would not have been able to act on Brackett’s threat. He was stronger than the Institute or Brackett.”

Blair nodded extending his hand again. “Thank you, if I can ever make it happen I’ll try to get Jim Ellison to prosecute.” He turned and headed out of the penitentiary clutching his backpack. 

Once in his car, Blair stopped. “I am letting this go,” he told himself over and over as his hands gripped the steering wheel in a death like grip. “I’ll meditate on this later.” With some effort he slowed his breathing so he could drive without killing himself or some innocent motorist and then drove back to his office. 

Mrs. Glassbaum and most of the staff were gone and so he sat at his desk and wrote up his notes in Jim’s file. Brackett had told him about the crimes committed against Jim but that really didn’t give him a way to approach the sentinel. Thinking this over, Blair considered what could be a next step, who might know Jim? He had three options: one - contact family (something he was reluctant to do because of the trauma though he imagined he could gauge whether to approach them by asking to see the brother who had kept his property safe), two – contact colleagues (but he had already spoken with Jim’s fellow sentinels who all admitted Jim had helped them while incarcerated but had been able to give very little insight into the man), and three – approach his friends (unfortunately, Blair had no idea who the friends were). But then Blair stopped looking at his paper actually pushing a paradigm shift. He had been thinking of Jim first and foremost as a sentinel. If he traded that view for one of the man primarily as a detective and soldier he could probably get far more insight.

Jim had been a detective with Major Crimes. His colleagues there had to know more about the man than the sentinels who only shared brief meetings with Jim at the institute. He would see if he could speak with Jim’s fellow detectives. Making a note about that he headed for home. He needed some serious meditation time to clear all his negative thoughts if he intended to sleep. 

With all the backlash, litigation and fall out from what had been done to the sentinels, politicians were falling over themselves to show their support for the CSG. So, Blair did not have any trouble securing interview time with Major Crimes. Not that the Captain of said unit was happy about it. Simon Banks practically growled Friday morning when his secretary, Rhonda, informed him that the Deputy Commissioner had arranged for someone to interview him and some of his detectives in Major Crimes. “Of course, we should be talking to academics instead of solving crimes,” he said sarcastically as Rhonda shrugged and handed him the message.

At 10:00 Blair was directed to and arrived at the Major Crimes unit and looked around with interest. This was where Jim had worked. It was a busy place full of movement, tension, and energy and Blair was fascinated by the frenetic pace. That Jim worked here while online more than proved sentinels could function in normal environments and needed guides not guardians. Going to the secretary’s desk Blair introduced himself and the pretty blonde smiled before picking up the phone and calling Simon Banks. “Simon, Dr. Sandburg is here,” she informed him and then nodded before standing and opening the door.

Blair walked into Simon Banks’ office not sure what to expect, he had never been in a police captain’s office before and he looked around noting the desk covered in files and the conference table. He knew Major Crimes was one of the most prestigious units and in the back of his mind he wondered if other departments had conference tables in their captains’ offices. “Dr. Sandburg,” Simon stood and extended his hand. “I was surprised when I heard you wanted to interview people in Major Crimes. SVU has been dealing with crimes against sentinels.” Blair smiled and took the seat that Simon indicated looking across the desk at the tall African American.

“I am aware of that Captain,” he admitted. “I’m actually here for another reason. Jim Ellison used to work for you and I’m looking for information about him.”

“Jim,” Simon said slowly and Blair could almost see the walls going up as the Captain became cautious. 

Blair nodded, “I am trying to get him to register with the CSG and am looking for the best way to approach him.”

“I take it you’ve asked him directly?’ 

“Yes and he refused.” Blair could actually see Simon smile with a degree of amusement at the statement. 

“I’m sure if he did it was in very clear terms. However, I don’t know what I can tell you that will change his mind.”

“Any insight would be helpful.”

Simon considered the young man before him looking at the pale features and dark circles beneath the young man’s eyes and trying to consider how best to not answer. “Jim was an excellent detective. He was something of a lone wolf; he only had one partner when he worked in Major Crimes. He was methodical, organized and dedicated, even driven at times. He had an excellent work ethic and I suspect the PD still owes him back vacation time. As far as I know when he was taken into the Institute no one claimed it.” Simon stopped a moment then shrugged. “There’s really nothing else I can tell you.” Thinking this over Blair decided he was hearing nothing new.

“How was he as a colleague?”

“Competent,” Simon answered and Blair looked at the captain with some frustration.

“Captain I am trying to get insight into the man,” he repeated and watched Simon reach across his desk to lift an unlit cigar and practically chomp on it for a moment giving Blair the impression that the man was trying to pull back anger.

The impression was confirmed when Simon Banks continued in much cooler voice. “Jim is not a criminal in need of a profile, Doctor and anything else you want to know comes under the heading personal not professional.” 

Blair sighed realizing he would be getting nothing else from Banks. “Can I speak with the man who was his partner?”

“Sure but Jack will never answer. He died four years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Blair answered automatically as he glanced at his notes and then back at the Captain. “I’m not only trying to get him to register with the CSG but trying to get him to come back to Cascade. Wouldn’t you want Jim back?”

“In a heartbeat Sandburg, but I won’t betray his trust to get him back.”

“I’m not trying to get you to do that,” Blair protested though in the back of his mind he knew he was doing just that, but for good reasons.

“Yes, you are,” Simon answered and put down his cigar. “You are asking for personal information about someone so you can get him to do what you want. So unless Jim tells me it’s okay to say anything, you will get only what a personnel office can give out. However, I will give you a piece of advice. Play it straight with Jim. He doesn’t like people trying to manipulate him.”

Blair considered Simon’s words for a minute then asked, “Can I speak with some of his colleagues?”

Simon sighed. “If I had a choice the answer would be no but the Deputy Commissioner said cooperate so I’ll arrange for you to speak with Detectives Rafe and Brown. They’ve worked with him.” Blair watched as Simon asked Rhonda to set up conference room three and then stood.

“Thank you Captain. Believe it or not I am trying to help Jim,” he turned and left the office and followed the secretary to the conference room.

Rafe and Brown walked into conference room three together ten minutes later and looked with some surprise at the long haired anthropologist and Blair decided they probably expected someone a bit more sedate who looked older. His long hair, colorful clothes, and tribal jewelry combined with his young face made Blair look younger than the quarter of a century that he had lived through.

Standing Blair smiled as they came to the table. “Hello, I’m Blair Sandburg, Director of the Center for Sentinels and Guides,” he extended his hand which was engulfed by Henry Brown’s much larger one and he wondered if being very tall was a requirement of the Major Crimes Unit. 

“Henry Brown,” the large black man answered, “and this is my partner Rafe.” 

Blair shook the other detective’s hand. “Detective,” Blair smiled. “I don’t know what your Captain told you but I’m trying to get some information on Jim Ellison”

“Why?” Brown asked taking a seat across from Blair his body language cautious as Rafe sat down beside him. Blair watching could see the walls coming up just as they had with Simon Banks. They were closing ranks to protect one of their own. 

“I’m trying to get him to join the CSG.” Blair watched as Rafe and Brown looked at each other. 

“I take it he said no,” Brown asked and Blair nodded.

“But the CSG can help him get his life back,” Blair gave his justification for the interview hoping it would get the two men talking.

“What do you want to know?” Rafe asked.

“Tell me anything you think might be pertinent, might be helpful.”

“Jim’s a very private man,” Rafe answered. “He didn’t talk much about himself so I don’t really know what to tell you.”

Blair glanced from Rafe to Brown. “Is there anyone here who could give me some information about Ellison?”

“His ex wife maybe,” Rafe answered and got elbowed by his partner.

“His ex wife,” Blair repeated. “And she works here?”

Brown glared at Rafe for a moment and then turned back to Blair. “Carolyn Plummer down in forensics,” he answered reluctantly, scowling at his partner. Blair made a mental note of Carolyn Plummer’s location before looking up at the detectives. “Come on guys, you must have gone for a brew to celebrate the closing of a case and talked about something other than work. Can you at least tell me something he likes to do?” 

“He likes to go camping and fishing. He used to pack up his gear and head out when he had a few days off,” Rafe answered. 

“He likes the Jags. They’re his favorite basketball team,” Brown added sitting forward trying to get a look at Blair’s notes. “We used to argue whether or not the Jags would have a winning season. Oh and he loves Wonderburger,” the detective added with a smile.

Blair glanced at the two detectives knowing he was not going to get any more information from them. “Well, I guess that’s it, thank you gentlemen.” He rose and started out of the conference room. His next stop forensics and Carolyn Plummer.

The forensics department was not as easy to get into as some of the other PD departments and Blair had to toss around both his credentials and the Deputy Commissioner’s name a few times to see Carolyn Plummer. 

She was a professional looking woman, well turned out in smart clothes who stepped forward with a no nonsense, self assured expression as she shook Blair’s hand, her own handshake strong and assertive.

“I was told you came here to talk about Jimmy,” she stated in a neutral voice.

“Yes, Ms. Plummer. I’m trying to get him to join the CSG and am looking for insight into how to approach him.”

She nodded as she led Blair to a small conference room and took a seat beside him. “When Jimmy was taken into the institute I was surprised. I hadn’t realized he had heightened senses, he hid them that well, but looking back with hindsight I can see hints of it.” She watched Blair glance at her curiously. “He could find my watch so quickly. He would just tilt his head. I didn’t realize it was his heightened hearing at work and he never admitted to being a sentinel.” She let her eyes wander around the table. “I should have tried to help when they took him but at the time no one knew the Institute was so bad and I was trying to jump start my career. We had finally gotten divorced and…and I really didn’t want contact with Jimmy. And I guess I was a little mad that he never told me about his senses.” She gave a sigh and looked off thoughtfully. Finally, she looked at Blair. “I knew he would hate that Institute even before the abuses were uncovered but it was the law so I didn’t interfere.”

Blair could hear her trying to justify her actions and realized she felt guilty about Jim’s incarceration. “Not much you could do,” he said for her benefit and she nodded and smiled. “You said you knew Jim would hate the Institute?” he coaxed and she nodded again.

“Jimmy was incredibly independent. He didn’t like being cared for by anyone, even me. So an institute that took away his rights and then decided on his care was hell for him.”

Blair reached up and rubbed his forehead and then pushed back his hair in an effort to give him some time to think before lifting his pen. “He didn’t like being cared for?” Blair asked causally glancing down at his pad and wondering if Carolyn had considered the Institute a punishment for not being more open.

“He was never one too share his emotions, his inner thoughts. We were never really intimate.” She glanced at Blair quickly and then looked down her cheeks coloring. “The sex was good, very good, but the emotional piece was missing. When I married him I thought I could bring it out. I was wrong.”

Blair nodded sympathetically hearing a degree of bitterness. Carolyn Plummer he suspected needed a certain level of control in a relationship and with Jim she didn’t get it. His keeping his sentinel status from her must have irked her to some extent so she had abandoned him to the Institute. Not that she could have done much to help him but at least the Institute would have known there were interested parties watching out for him. They might have been a bit less severe.

“Have you spoken to Jim since he came out of the Institute?”

“No,” Carolyn answered softly and Blair could clearly hear the guilt this time. “I didn’t know what to say to him. I sent him a letter offering any assistance he might need but it came back because he isn’t living at the loft. I guess Brackett sold it.”

Deciding not to inform her of Jim’s finances and the state of his loft Blair continued. “Did you see Jim at Brackett’s trial?”

“No, I didn’t attend,” Carolyn looked down unwilling to meet Blair’s eyes and Blair suspected that she was somewhat ashamed of her actions or lack thereof. “I had work to do and...” she paused and continued in a stronger voice, “Jim and I were divorced. We had gone our separate ways. And he was still Institute property.” 

Blair considered this. By the time Brackett’s trial ended a lot of the sentinel abuses were known so Carolyn Plummer couldn’t use the excuse she didn’t know so she had simply abandoned her ex to his fate.

Not willing to show his feelings and relying on his training as an anthropologist to keep from showing what he thought of her Blair changed the subject before he lost Carolyn’s cooperation. “Can you give me any idea how to approach Jim? I would like him to register with the CSG.”

“Make him think the CSG needs him not he needs the CSG,” she answered. “Jimmy doesn’t like to feel he needs anyone,” she answered and stood up. Blair rose also extending his hand and letting it close around hers. 

“Can I ask you one more question?” Blair added still holding her hand. “Jim’s family, how were his relations with them?”

Carolyn looked over Blair and shrugged. “Jim and his father never talk. They are anything but close. We barely saw him when we were married and I understand he and his father really haven’t spoken since Jim entered the army’s ROTC program. Jim and his brother Steven might speak once or twice a year but their father somehow caused a breech between them as kids that never healed.”

“His mother?”

‘Abandoned them when Jimmy was seven. So I doubt any of his family could help you.” 

Blair nodded his heart going out to the sentinel. “Thank you for your time.”

Carolyn Plummer gave him a tight lipped smile in response and turning on her heels left the room.

Notes in hand, Blair returned to the CSG and went into his office putting his notes into Jim’s file. He hadn’t really learned all that much though. The fact that Jim was emotionally withdrawn didn’t really come as a surprise considering where and how he was living. Still, it was a shame. Jim was abandoned by his wife to a controlling Institute because she hadn’t been able to control him, abandoned by a mother as a child – Lord only knew why, estranged from his father and brother. Hell, abandoned by his own country in Peru. It was a wonder Jim cared enough to become a cop and protect his territory.

Looking at the file, Blair considered calling Jim’s father or brother and wondered how receptive they would or wouldn’t be. He had been reluctant initially thinking they might be traumatized by what had happened to Jim. But now a totally different view was emerging and Blair didn’t feel the need to tread on eggshells.

But Jim was not the only sentinel Blair had to worry about and knew he didn’t have time to interview Jim’s family, after all it was Thursday and he had a Meet & Greet to plan for Friday. He knew he couldn’t interview anyone or at least couldn’t before the weekend. However, he wasn’t too thrilled about giving up his weekend. He didn’t think he had any real plans, or at least none he couldn’t get out of but he was tired. He hadn’t slept at all well since coming back from Jim’s cabin and he needed rest this weekend. Thinking this over he picked up the phone and despite his weariness asked Mrs. Glassbaum to track down Steven and William Ellison brother and father to James Ellison and see about making an appointment with each for the weekend or the next week.

Blair didn’t stop to think he was becoming obsessed with Jim, that he was stepping way beyond the parameters of his office, overstepping Jim’s rights completely. All he did know was he needed Jim with him and as he accepted that fact, the bond clicked firmly into place.

***Part Eight – Confrontations

Jim Ellison stood by his front window thoughtfully. He had sent Blair on his way Sunday because he knew the anthropologist was sliding into the sentinel guide bond. Jim could thank Incacha for his ability to block bonding but Blair had no such training and so had to be sent off as quickly as possible. Hopefully the young anthropologist had been sent away early enough to stop the fledgling bond from sticking. Idly, he wondered how Blair was doing. Turning from his contemplation of the world outside, Jim walked over to the fireplace and tossed on another log. In three months his loft would be vacated and he would have to decide what he wanted to do. Did he want to go back to the PD? Simon had hinted that there would be an opening for him if he came back but Jim suspected the PD would not let him out in the field without a guide. Having a guide was not a requirement in any profession yet but he suspected it soon would be. Most of the sentinels who made it out of the institute would not be able to function without one and doctors would think it was the norm instead of the result of extraordinary abuse and once again start dictating sentinels’ lives. “We’re trading one form of bondage for another,” he muttered getting a beer.

He could go back to Major Crimes and work until they told him he had to have a guide. Then he could fight it or quit. He doubted he could get Sandburg to support him if he protested a bond. Historically, there was a bond and even Incacha warned he would bond someday with one of his own tribe. But Jim didn’t think he should have to. If they started mandating bonding next they would start choosing the guides and it would be the Institute all over again.

The phone ringing pulled him from those dark thoughts and he went to answer it almost with a sense of relief. Contemplating a dark, enslaved future with the knowledge that it could actually happen was not fun. 

“Yeah, Ellison,” he answered.

“Jim?”

“Simon?” Jim took a seat a small smile softening his features. “How are you?”

“Good Jim. How are things up by the Cascades?”

“Quiet,” the sentinel chuckled.

“Well I heard it wasn’t so quiet a couple of days ago. You had a visitor.”

“I did,” Jim said slowly, “but why would you know about it?”

“Dr. Sandburg came here and paid me a visit after seeing you.”

“Paid you a visit?” Jim repeated quietly. “Why?”

“He was looking for information about you.”

“What did he want to know?” 

“All about you. He said he was trying to get you to register with the CSG.”

“By prying into my private life?” Jim stated his voice dangerously low.

“I know he spoke with Rafe and Brown and,” Simon paused knowing Mount Ellison was getting ready to erupt, “he might have spoken with Carolyn.” Simon could hear Jim’s sharp intake of air.

“Jim?’

“I’m here Simon,” he answered softly. Simon knew from experience Jim was at his most dangerous when his voice turned low and soft.

“What do you want me to do?” Simon asked.

“Nothing,” Jim said at last. “I’ll deal with this.”

“Look Jim, I know you’ve had a hard time but assaulting Sandburg will only get your ass thrown in prison.”

“Don’t worry Simon. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Hanging up Jim paced back and forth in anger. He had put the doctor up for a night and explained how and why the CSG was dangerous to sentinels so what does the kid do, step even further over bounds, trampling Jim’s rights. And why? Because he was a sentinel. 

Walking into his bedroom he went to a small box in the closet and opening it pulled out the collar and leash he had been forced to wear by the Institute and Brackett. He had kept it as a reminder of what he had endured and he let his hand run over the thick leather and chain thoughtfully as he considered what he should do.

Some part of him thought to head higher into the mountains where he could be free but Jim was a fighter and before he took off, and he supposed he would have to, a part of his mind already starting the arrangements, he had to let Sandburg know just what he was doing for the sake of the other sentinels. Tossing the leash and collar into a duffle bag along with several changes of clothes, a razor and toiletries he turned back to the living room and got out a pad of paper. Today he would make some arrangements in case he had to run but tomorrow when he had more control over his anger he would see Blair Sandburg for the last time.

Jim spent the rest of the day looking over maps, deciding what supplies he would need, and where and how to put them away strategically for future use should he need to run. Finishing up he glanced at the time. It was already 8:00 and he had one more phone call to make. It was not one he relished making but he needed to speak with his ex wife and find out if Sandburg had spoken with her and exactly what she might have told him. 

“Hello,” Carolyn’s voice answered pleasantly after the second ring.

“Caro, it’s Jim,” he answered taking a seat in the living room.

“Jimmy, how are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m fine. I thought I might hear from you tonight.”

“So Sandburg did contact you?”

“Yes, he wanted to know about you.”

“Caro, please tell me you didn’t tell him anything.”

“Well, I only spoke with him for a few minutes, Jim and to be honest I didn’t tell him much. I mentioned contacting your father and brother might be a waste of time and that I didn’t know you were a sentinel when we were married.” To Jim that didn’t sound too bad but he knew his ex wife better than that.

“What did you say about our marriage?” Jim could hear her pause and knew she had said something she shouldn’t.

“I told him you didn’t share your thoughts or emotions with me.”

“Caro!”

“It was true,” she shot back and Jim could hear the anger in her voice. “Maybe part of it was my fault,” she said at last. “I know that I demanded more from you emotionally than you were able to give but we both had some responsibility for the divorce Jim.”

Jim closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose as a tension headache started to build behind his eyes. “Look I didn’t call to hash this out again. Is there anything else I need to know that you told him?” 

Jim could actually hear her hesitation before she said no. She then went on to talk about her career while Jim could say nothing about his career. It had ended when the Institute caught him. Finally she asked, “How bad was it Jim?”

“It was bad Caro but I survived.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim could hear tears in her voice. “I should have done more to help you.” She paused and then took a breath. “When I started to hear about the abuses I knew I should call but I didn’t know what to say.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong Carolyn, so let it go.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yeah stay away from Sandburg.”

Friday morning Jim drove down from the Cascades and booked into a motel near Rainier University and then dropping everything but the collar and leash in the hotel drove over to the CSG. 

By the time he got there it was going on two and he walked into the CSG stiffly, anger still coiled below the surface and found the office of the director. Walking up to the secretary he nodded and asked to speak with Dr. Sandburg.

“Dr. Sandburg has a Meet & Greet for sentinels and guides at two. Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” Ellison looked at the woman thoughtfully a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Does he have any free time today?”

“Not usually on a Meet & Greet day Mr…” she waited politely for the man before her to fill in his name.

“Ellison.”

At the name her eyes shot up to look at the face of the man speculatively. “Mr. Jim Ellison?” she asked and Jim nodded. Immediately she lifted her phone. She knew Blair had become practically obsessed with this man. She had been shocked when he interviewed Brackett, a bit more surprised when Blair had interviewed the Major Crimes detectives and Ellison’s former wife but she became really concerned and even voiced her concerns when he asked for appointments to see the father and brother. “Blair, Mr. Ellison is here to see you.”

Being a professional Mrs. Glassbaum didn’t laugh when Blair burst out of his office five seconds later a look of wonder lighting his face that made her realize Blair’s obsession came under the heading personal not professional. “Jim,” he cried in surprise and obvious pleasure but stopped at the imposing figure before him. Something was definitely wrong and upsetting the sentinel though how exactly he knew that he wasn’t sure. “Come in,” he said a bit more sedately. With a polite nod to the secretary, Jim walked past Blair into his office and looked around. It was slightly cluttered, nothing fancy, the complete opposite of the Director of the Sentinel Institute’s office. It was functional.

Pulling a chair over so he could sit beside the sentinel instead of across from him Blair took a seat indicating Jim should take the other. “How are you, how are your senses?”

Jim glanced over the younger man frowning as he realized the young man didn’t look very healthy. He looked on edge, his face pale with dark circles under his eyes that were so pronounced they were almost blue. Remembering why he was here and pushing these concerns aside he took a seat putting the bag he carried beside the chair before sitting back and crossing his arms. “I’m fine Sandburg,” Jim answered in a cold voice but after a moment’s thought he changed his mind. “No I’m not fine, I’m angry.”

“Angry?” Blair answered quietly stomach sinking.

Jim glared at Blair. “Angry. Do you want to tell me why you were interviewing my friends and ex wife and asking intimate questions about me?”

“It’s not what you think,” Blair answered quickly. “I wasn’t,” he paused pushing back his hair, agitation showing on his expressive face. “Well, maybe it is what you think, but I was just trying to find some way to approach you.”

“Manipulate me you mean,” Jin challenged and Blair looked down at his desk, Jim’s file in front of him. For some reason he kept looking over it daily. Casually he closed it and looked up with a sigh.

“Don’t you understand,” Blair said softly. “You’re my dream come true. The Holy Grail of sentinels. You know what I need to do to help the others. I need you man.” The last statement was said almost in anguish with so much feeling that had Jim been listening more closely, his anger not clouding his thoughts, he might have heard something more than a director talking to a potential consultant.

Jim was about to answer when Mrs. Glassbaum appeared at the door. “Blair the Meet & Greet is starting.”

Reluctantly Blair took his eyes from Jim turning to the secretary, “Call Richard and ask him to cover for me,” Blair requested rising. “I’ll go and say hello and then let him run the meeting.” He turned back to Jim. “I’ll be back in five minutes, Jim. Just wait here.” Seeing the sentinel nod he turned and hurried out of the office Mrs. Glassbaum following.

Jim sat for a minute looking around the small office. Books on anthropology were set on shelves along with a few native totems. Two large file cabinets rested against one wall and on top of the cabinet was a picture of a younger Blair standing beside a tall redheaded woman, her arm around him. Blair’s diplomas were stacked against a wall as though the anthropologist hadn’t had time to hang them and there was a tribal mask on the floor beside the file cabinet. 

“Messy,” Jim decided as his eyes swung back to the desk and he frowned seeing a folder with his name. Reaching over he grabbed it and opening it looked over the pages. The first showed his status as a sentinel: the date he was taken into the Institute, his “adoption” by Brackett, the date of his release. Behind that were clippings from newspapers covering the trial and then interviews with several sentinels he had tried to help at the Institute. There were even a few clippings from his time in Peru. Turning to the next page Jim stopped gasping in disbelief. In front of him were hand written notes from an interview with Brackett. Sandburg had gone to the prison and interviewed the man. Jaw clenched to the point that one of his teeth could break, Jim read over the notes that clearly chronicled his torture, imprisonment in the dungeon and starvation by the Institute, and the continued humiliation, torture and rape by the rogue agent. Closing his eyes for a minute to stop himself from shaking already feeling the beginnings of a tension headache behind his eyes, Jim took several deep breaths to calm his nerves trying not to relive those memories before turning back to the notes. Next came notes, mostly uninformative, from Banks, Brown and Rafe, and finally Carolyn. Reading through his ex wife’s claims of his inability to be intimate Jim’s anger notched up yet another degree. He could even see Blair had wanted to interview his father and brother. Throwing the file back down the papers scattering across the desk he paced trying to keep from killing the director of the CSG. What Jim had come to stop, the invasion and disregard of a sentinel’s rights had already and rather glaringly come to pass. The CSG was just another Sentinel Institute and he wouldn’t stay and be caught again though something in the back of Jim’s mind wondered how he had been so fooled by Sandburg, he had actually considered bonding to the young man. Rising he let his hands close on the bag he carried with him and turned toward the door just as Blair came rushing back in.

“Sorry I…” he stopped seeing Jim’s white face, his jaw muscles twitching in anger, his hands balled into fists. “Jim?” he asked softly.

“So now I know what the CSG is like Sandburg,” he said quietly, way too quietly, as he loomed over the anthropologist. “You’re another Sentinel Institute.”

“No,” Blair answered stepping close to his desk but then he saw the file thrown back on his desk and he turned sheet white gasping as he realized Jim had just been reminded in a brutal way of the nightmare that had happened to him. “No, Jim we don’t…” but Blair couldn’t say the CSG didn’t invade sentinels’ privacy because it was just what he had done. “I only…not the CSG…I looked for information.” Blair paused knowing he was babbling, making no sense and just incriminating himself further especially since he could think of no way to justify his actions. Staring at the sentinel Blair could feel his stomach cramp a feeling of nausea overwhelming him. Swallowing down bile he shook his head spreading his hands. “Please let me explain,” he whispered desperately his voice cracking as he took a step closer to the enraged sentinel though he couldn’t think of any way to explain his actions. Hesitantly, a hand reached for Jim but dropped when Jim pulled away and opened the bag he had been carrying.

Staring coldly at Blair, not watching where it landed, he threw the collar and leash on the desk. “There’s the size and type you’ll need when you start ordering restraints and locking up the sentinels.” Blair flinched at the noise the chain made as it crashed onto the desk. “But don’t expect me to stick around waiting to be hauled in. And don’t ever contact me again.”

Spinning around ignoring Blair’s white face and tears pooling in his eyes, Jim strode out of the room, slamming the door open with the violence he wanted to inflict on Blair as he left, speeding out of the building, not even thinking about a destination his mind caught in a cycle of anger, humiliation, pain and shock. All he knew was he needed to get out before he killed someone.

Needing to clear his head and not ready to get behind the wheel of a car, his hands still shaking from the emotional upheaval, Jim turned and strode toward the Rainier Campus. There he paced around the grounds to shake off some of the tension he was feeling. He couldn’t believe what Sandburg had done – just how far he had gone to get information. It went beyond an invasion of privacy, Jim felt as though he had been violated again only this time it was almost worse. He had known who and what the Institute and Brackett had planned and had prepared himself mentally for that assault but Sandburg was someone he thought could be a friend. This was a betrayal.

Some part of him thought about getting a lawyer and going after the CSG and Sandburg but if he did he’d again have to relive the two year nightmare and Sandburg’s lawyers might find some way to justify the actions as a sentinel needing support. Never mind that it would again trample Jim’s rights and that the CSG would be whittling away at all sentinels’ freedom. He could see the progression – if it was alright to pry into a sentinel’s life and past (for his own good) than it was alright to make decisions about that life (for his own good).

Jim had hoped he would have some time before he needed to run, a small reprieve while he went back to Cascade and met his friends but he could see now that had only been a pipe dream

Still walking around the campus, his face an angry mask that had people getting out of his way rather quickly as he stalked the paths, he tried to focus on what he needed to do next and not the horrors of the past. He had been trying to repress what had happened to him so it had been a shock when he saw what he endured in print. As he slowed thinking he should head back to his truck, go to the hotel, pack up and check out without staying, he wished he had taken the papers with him so he could destroy them. But he was sure Sandburg could reproduce them, hell, he might even have multiple copies floating around the CSG so the CSG could analyze how to break a sentinel. 

Turning back in the direction of his truck he decided it was time to get out of Dodge. Canada beckoned just across the border and if he didn’t want to stay there he could head out to a number of countries. These dark thoughts were roaming through his head when his cell phone rang and Sandburg’s secretary asked to speak with him.

Mrs. Glassbaum had been seated at her desk when Jim stormed out and had looked up in alarm at the angry sentinel’s departure, the sound of the door slamming against the wall making her jump, before running into the office. “Blair are you alright?” She stopped seeing his stricken white face and tears trickling down his cheeks as he started to shake, his hands closing around his stomach as it began producing painful spasms. 

“He’s left me,” Blair whispered softly though the words sounded more like sobs as he reached a hand out to his desk to steady himself but his hand touched the collar and he yanked back his hand as if he had touched something scalding and began to shake even more before crumbling to the floor repeating over and over, “He’s left me.”

Hurrying over to the young man, Mrs. Glassbaum tried to talk to Blair, to find out what was wrong but could get no coherent answer from his boss. Giving up on getting answers and settling Blair so that he rested on the floor, his body still shaking violently Mrs. Glassbaum ran to call Dr. McKay. McKay was one of the CSG doctors and Blair usually had one in house on days when he had Meet & Greets in case something came up with a sentinel’s health.

At the panicked secretary’s call McKay hurried in and looked at the young man. Blair had curled up on the floor and was shaking badly. “What’s he saying?” the doctor asked bending to sit beside Blair a hand reaching for his wrist.

“Jim Ellison stormed out and then Blair collapsed saying, ‘He left me.’”

“Did Ellison touch him?”

“I don’t know,” the secretary answered her voice shaking with concern as the doctor eased Blair onto his back. 

“Blair,” he said sternly forcing the director to look at him. “Did Ellison hurt you?” 

Blair shook his head no but then looked at McKay with a lost expression that made him look more like a teenager than a man with a doctorate in his mid twenties, “He left me,” he whimpered.

Looking at the young man closely the doctor nodded. “I understand,” he patted Blair’s arm and looked at the secretary. “I think our director is suffering from bonding stress.”

“How can that be, Blair’s not a,” Mrs. Glassbaum stopped with a gasp, a hand going to her mouth. “Oh Lord, since coming back from his meeting with Jim Ellison he has been obsessed with him. Could a bond form in two days?”

“I’m not an expert but I’ve seen a sentinel act just this way once when his bond mate died. So I would say that’s what happened,” McKay stood. “Get an ambulance. I’ll take him to the hospital to run some tests to be sure but if it is a bonding problem there’s really nothing we can do about it.”

Mrs. Glassbaum nodded heading back to her desk. Twenty minutes later, she watched as Blair was wheeled out of the CSG and afterwards she couldn’t cleanse her mind of the image of her ashen faced boss and his quiet mumblings of, “He left me.” There really wasn’t much that could be done if Ellison didn’t want to bond but Ms. Glassbaum couldn’t forget Blair’s lost, helpless expression and picked up the phone deciding if nothing else Ellison needed to know what he had done to Blair.

Using the cell phone number on file she called Ellison’s phone and was relieved when on the third ring she heard, “Ellison,” in a clipped cool voice.

“Mr. Ellison,” Mrs. Glassbaum suddenly wondered if she was doing the right thing remembering how angrily the sentinel had left the CSG but she forged ahead anyway not giving herself time to reconsider. “I’m Mrs. Glassbaum, Dr. Sandburg’s secretary.”

“If he’s accusing me of something, I never touched him.”

“No he hasn’t accused you of anything,” she answered her voice clipped. She was angry with Ellison even though in her head she knew that Blair had way overstepped his bounds with this sentinel. Still, she needed Ellison to know why. “Mr. Ellison I do need to speak with you about Dr. Sandburg.”

“Why?”

“It’s a personal matter. Can you meet me for a cup of coffee?”

Jim considered saying no, he didn’t owe Blair anything but something in the secretary’s voice, a note of desperation, stopped him. Looking around for the first time since his dash from the Center he realized he was at the Rainier Campus. “Yeah, I’ll meet you. I’m near Rainier’s Good Brew Coffee Shop.”

“I can be there in 15 minutes,” the secretary answered grabbing her bag.

Mrs. Glassbaum wasn’t really sure what to say when she arrived at the coffee shop and saw Ellison seated in one of the back booths a cup of coffee in front of him. He looked imposing and unapproachable, his blue eyes unreadable, his jaw twitching, his lips pressed so tight together they were white. She certainly couldn’t demand that he bond with Blair. Sliding into the booth across from the sentinel she nervously put down her bag beside her and ordered a cup of coffee as Ellison watched, his expression less than friendly. “What is it you want to talk about?” he asked foregoing any niceties, his voice cold. It was the kind of voice he had used on suspects and the woman paled a little as she glanced around the table nervously. 

“Mr. Ellison I know Blair invaded your personal life researching you, and I’m guessing that’s why you stormed out of the office, but there were extenuating circumstances.”

“Do you really think you can tell me something that will justify his actions,” Jim asked coldly, his blue eyes trained on her with an intensity that reminded the secretary that he had spent years interrogating criminals and getting confessions.

“No not justify, but perhaps explain his actions,” she answered softly looking down at the coffee cup. “Make them forgivable.” 

“And what explanation would do that?” Jim asked watching the woman closely, sentinel senses trained on her. Jim didn’t dare raise his senses too much he didn’t want to zone and with the state of his emotions he doubted he’d have anything that approached control but he raised scent and hearing just a bit.

Mrs. Glassbaum looked up her brown eyes filled with concern as she looked into the light blue eyes of the man before her. “Blair bonded to you, so he couldn’t let you go.”

The confession broke through the cold exterior and Jim looked at her in shock. “What?” he gasped, and Mrs. Glassbaum felt the first faint stirrings of hope that maybe the sentinel might not be unreachable as Jim’s expression changed, softening.

“It’s true. Dr. McKay took him to the hospital as soon as you left. He collapsed repeating over and over, ‘He left me.’ He’s been obsessed with you since coming back from visiting you.”

“Shit,” Ellison sat back watching the woman and considering Blair’s egregious behavior. Jim had to admit he had been surprised by Blair’s research into his past. It had shown a complete disregard for his rights and a level of insensitivity that he hadn’t displayed as the director of the CSG advocating for sentinels. And he certainly hadn’t shown that kind of insensitivity or invasive behavior back up in the mountains. He hadn’t seemed like someone who would trample on sentinels’ rights and he had been the chief witness for the sentinels. But an incomplete bond could make a sentinel or guide obsessive and more than a little crazy. That’s why he had gotten Blair out of his cabin to keep this from happening. “Are you sure?”

“Dr. McKay was fairly certain.” Jim lifted his coffee cup taking a sip as he considered Blair’s outrageous behavior and his own options. If Blair really were in bonding stress than he needed his sentinel but Jim couldn’t bond with someone who would enslave sentinels and Blair’s behavior indicated he might unless it was an obsession caused by the bonding. That was a very real possibility but Jim knew he would need to be sure sentinels’ rights wouldn’t be trampled before helping Blair.

“Mrs. Glassbaum, answer one question and remember you are sitting across from a sentinel and a detective. Has the CSG ever trampled on a sentinel’s rights the way Blair trampled on mine?”

Surprised by the question Mrs. Glassbaum looked the sentinel in the eye as she answered, “No. It’s part of why we think it was a bonding thing. At first Blair would say the CSG needed you but it changed to he needed you over the week and he seemed to get more agitated as the week went on. He wasn’t eating right or sleeping.” She paused and then added, “He’s never done anything like this before and truthfully he would fire anyone else who did.”

Jim nodded staring into this coffee cup for a few minutes his emotions calming as he realized there were mitigating factors in Blair’s actions and perhaps he hadn’t been totally wrong about the anthropologist. He had known from first contact that Blair was a compatible guide, even more than compatible, he didn’t like to use the idea but destined came to mind. The big question the sentinel had to answer was whether he was ready to bond to a guide, any guide. Bonding was a life commitment but if he didn’t bond to Blair, the anthropologist would in all likelihood fall apart and quite possibly die. Thinking over the bright blue eyes and exuberant bounce of the young man who had stayed with him, Jim admitted he didn’t want to see that disappear. Finally, making a decision, understanding and accepting the implications and all it entailed, he reached for his wallet and threw a ten dollar bill on the table, standing. “What hospital?” he asked and watched the secretary give a tentative smile.

“Cascade General. I’ll let Dr. McKay know you’re coming.”

***Part Nine – Sentinel Meets Guide

Cascade General was one of Cascade’s larger hospitals and Jim was fairly familiar with it from his days in the PD so he didn’t need to look around as he strode through the emergency room door and up to the nurse, interrupting her paperwork. “I’m looking for Blair Sandburg, he was brought in by Dr. McKay.”

The nurse/receptionist a rather harried woman looked up at the man in front of her. “Are you a family member?” she asked.

“No. I’m his sentinel.”

The nurse paused, the answer the man had given was definitely not a normal response but she had been to training on sentinels and guides just a few months ago when the sentinels that had been so abused were moved to hospitals. Standard operational procedure and hospital policy dictated that when feasible a guide or sentinel should be allowed with his or her bond mate. Glancing at her computer she asked, “What was the patient’s name?”

“Sandburg.”

“Room three,” she indicated the emergency room door and hit a button to unlock it. 

Striding in, Jim’s eyes swept the emergency room locating all the room numbers before making a beeline for room three pushing back the curtain to walk in. Inside, he found Blair was curled into a ball his eyes closed tight, the young man hooked up to several monitors, one beeping annoyingly, and Jim went over to the anthropologist. For a moment he let his senses sweep over the CSG director noting that his heartbeat was too rapid, his breathing too shallow and his temperature too high before taking Blair’s hand in his own, his other hand coming to rest on Blair’s forehead, initiating contact. “Chief,” he called softly opening all his senses to connect with the guide. “Come on Blair, look at me.”

“Jim,” Blair whispered, opening his eyes in confusion and pain and staring at an image he thought he would never see again. In addition to cramps he was sure he was starting to hallucinate.

“Yeah, your sentinel is here.”

“My sentinel?” Jim could hear tremors in the weak voice that asked the question.

“Yeah it looks like you were having some bonding issues so I thought I’d better come and deal with them.”

“Bonding? I haven’t bonded,” Blair answered uncurling and sitting up, not realizing he was already feeling better at the physical contact with Jim. His cramps were easing and the shaking was noticeably diminished. 

“Right,” Jim answered, amused. “Your heart rate, respiration and temperature are heading to normal just from holding hands, and in case you haven’t noticed your shaking has stopped.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s from bonding,” Blair protested, his voice already stronger, a bit of a sparkle appearing in the deep blue eyes as he looked up at Jim before self consciously wiping his tear streaked face.

“Trust me Chief. It’s bonding.” As Jim said this he pushed down the bed railing and perched on the side of the bed beside the young man. “I sent you away Sunday to keep a bond from settling, but I guess I wasn’t quick enough.”

Blair looked up at the sentinel some part of him acknowledging the truth of Jim’s words. It made sense, it explained what he hadn’t been able to understand, namely his own obsession with Jim and how he hadn’t been able to stop himself from trying to understand and hold on to the man. “Sorry,” Blair whispered his voice shaking slightly. “You go back to the mountains and I’ll deal with this. I know you didn’t want a bond.” He paused and then looked down. “And I’m sorry about your privacy. I don’t know what came over me.”

Jim thought about the apology for a moment. If he didn’t let Blair’s actions go it would be a block between them forever and he understood what had happened, the mitigating circumstances involved, so he pushed the thoughts and anger away. He would deal with them later in his own time and way. Glancing at the CSG director, Jim could see his color returning and knew from Blair’s very quick reactions that this would be a very strong bond. “I do,” Jim chuckled lightly deliberately keeping his voice light and sliding a hand back into Blair’s connecting them, his own senses locking onto Blair’s, “bonding.”

Hearing the soft laugh and feeling the connection with Jim, something uncurled in Blair and his stomach stopped having spasms. Slowly, Blair looked up into Jim’s face his blue eyes searching the sentinel’s face. “You don’t mind bonding?”

Jim considered this for a moment aware that Blair was holding his breath, his heart rate speeding up. “Let’s just say we have to lay down some ground rules but no, I don’t mind.” Blair’s gasp of relief was so loud that Jim wouldn’t have needed to be a sentinel to hear it.

“Ground rules?” Blair repeated softly looking at Jim with wide blue eyes and Jim nodded.

“Number one, Chief,” Jim said just as softly still holding the anthropologist’s hand, his thumb gliding back and forth over Blair’s knuckles in a soothing motion though his voice turned stern. “You cannot, for any reason, ever intrude on a sentinel’s rights.” Blair opened his mouth to protest but Jim put a finger on the younger man’s lips and continued. “Think about it Blair, sentinels’ rights have already been revoked once because supposedly someone knew what was best for sentinels. If you as the head of the CSG start trampling on our rights what will other agencies think.”

Blair nodded, “I see your point,” he admitted and then looked down unwilling to meet Jim’s gaze. “I knew it even as I was doing it, but I just couldn’t let you go. Not even for three months.”

“That’s because of the bond,” Jim advised his voice softening with something approaching affection. “The reason I got you out of there Sunday was to try and prevent this.”

“You knew we were bonding?”

“I knew we were very compatible.” Jim shifted to make himself more comfortable on the bed. “I just never realized how strong a guide you are. That was my fault.” As Jim said this he looked up at the door and a few seconds later Dr. McKay and another physician walked in and stopped in surprise.

“Sentinel Ellison, I take it,” McKay said with a smile and Jim nodded as the second doctor came over to the side of Blair’s bed. He quickly looked over the monitors and clipboard attached to the bed and then back at McKay.

“His sentinel,” he shook his head. “It’s really amazing, a half hour ago I was ready to admit him and now he’s ready to go home.” As he said this he gave both Blair and Jim careful scrutiny. “Do we have to worry about some bonding issues here or are you both okay?”

“I think we will be,” Jim answered for them as Blair stared at his sentinel in wonder.

“Then I’ll start the paperwork to get Blair discharged,” McKay answered as he and the other doctor turned to leave. “And Blair, I want you to take off the next week.”

“What I…”

McKay held up a hand interrupting the anthropologist. “That’s an order Blair. In any case I think you and the sentinel need some time to work things out.”

Blair considered this a moment his gaze going over Jim. He doubted Jim would ever want a relationship with another man after what he had been through but a week would give them time to become better acquainted, maybe even friends and put Blair’s blunders into Jim’s past behind them. “I’ll let Richard and Mrs. Glassbaum know,” he agreed nodding as McKay turned to leave but the doctor stopped and looked back at the pair.

“Take care of him Ellison, he really is someone special.” Jim didn’t answer but turned back letting his gaze sweep over Blair and despite the fact that he doubted Jim would ever have a sexual relationship with him, he blushed at the physical scrutiny.

“We do have a few other things to discuss,” Jim continued sternly, “other rules to settle.”

“Are you feeling the bond,” Blair asked turning inquisitive eyes on the sentinel, ignoring the sentinel’s attempts to set some ground rules.

“A bit,” Jim admitted lifting his hand from Blair’s. “I’ve had some training that helped keep it pretty much at bay until I was ready to bond thanks to Incacha but with the physical contact just now and my senses open, it’s pulling me in.”

“Is that how it happens, with physical contact and a sentinel’s senses focused?” Blair asked looking around excitedly, wishing he had his laptop or a pad of paper to take notes. 

Looking at the exuberant young man Jim sighed. He couldn’t get a nice, staid bond mate. No, he had to get the inquisitive whirling dervish of bond mates. “Not necessarily,” he admitted. “Think back to the cabin; we had very limited contact. Close proximity can also do it if the guide and sentinel are highly compatible.” Blair practically bounced at the answer, trying to slip from the bed. 

“Then we are highly compatible. Man, I never even knew I was a guide until I met you.”

“I told you at the cabin you were one.”

“Yeah but I didn’t connect it to a Guide.”

“That makes absolutely no sense Sandburg,” Jim groused as Blair pulled off the leads to the monitors, the heart monitor immediately starting to flat line and making a loud racket that made Jim wince. Getting up he turned off the machine as Blair also stood, pacing back and forth in excitement. He was feeling so much better. The aches and cramps that had been getting worse all week had disappeared replaced with a sense of well being. He felt energized, on the top of the world and ready for any and all challenges. What’s more for the first time in a week he felt hungry.

“I didn’t get the intensity,” he admitted at last and watched Jim nod in understanding as a nurse rushed in the room and stopped in surprise looking at the monitor before glaring at Blair.

“You should be lying down,” she demanded and Blair shook his head.

“I’m being released,” he answered pushing back his hair and smiling at the woman with all the charm he could muster but the woman simply frowned before turning to leave the room with a loud “humph.” Blair turned back and smiled at Jim. 

“Wow, you know the sentinels who have connected with guides say it’s something special but I didn’t understand.” He stepped closer. “But with you here, I feel good, energized, ready for anything.”

“That’s the bond settling,” Jim answered with an indulgent smile. “Right now it is very intense but it will settle and the intensity will fade.”

“How do you know if you’ve never bonded? Maybe it will be like this forever.”

“No,” Jim shook his head. “Incacha and I spent a lot of time together working on my senses so we had a lot of time to talk. I asked about bonding and he gave me the information. If it was always this intense, sentinels and guide wouldn’t be able to do their jobs. It would be too distracting and they would never be able to be apart. It takes a few days to settle in though. So for the next week or so you will need to see a lot of me.” Blair paused in his pacing and smiled at the prospect but then frowned as he considered the bond.

“How come it’s not affecting you the same way?”

“Because I could suppress the bond,” Jim shrugged.

“Why would you want to?” Blair’s tone was suddenly cautious and unsure as he stopped his energetic motions to look at Jim.

“It’s not a matter of want, Sandburg,” Jim answered impatiently, but stopped seeing the guide bite his lower lip, a hand pushing back his hair nervously. “I like to take things a little slower. Break the bond in without needing a hospital visit,” he indicated the equipment behind Blair. “And I didn’t realize that you had bonded to me. Remember we were only together for 24 hours.”

“So the guides and sentinels I’ve brought together, they’re going or have gone through these intense emotions?”

“It would depend on how deep a bond they’ve managed. The more compatible, the deeper the bond, the more intense.”

“I wonder if there is some way to measure bond depth.” Blair looked over at Jim thoughtfully before continuing his pacing.

“Look Sandburg,” Jim sighed. “We still have some rules to work out.”

“Yeah, I got that man.” Blair turned excited eyes on Jim and the sentinel couldn’t help but smile, his guide was a beauty. Casually, he added, “Are you going to be staying in Cascade for the week or should I pack some stuff and find a place to stay up by you?” Blair wanted to say “with you” but didn’t want to push the sentinel.

“I’ll stay down here.”

“Since your loft is still occupied, my place isn’t very fancy, but I could put you up?”

Jim considered the offer. He wasn’t sure staying with Blair would be a good idea. The bond was forming and until it leveled off it would be extremely intense and could lead to rash behavior. So, staying with Blair might lead to situations that both men may or may not want because of the initial lure of the bond. And truthfully, Jim wasn’t sure he wanted a physical bond with Blair Sandburg. Yes, the man was beautiful but it took more than beauty for a physical relationship to work, else he would still be married to his wife. Instead Jim shook his head. “I think it would be better if I didn’t.” He smiled softly seeing Blair’s look of disappointment. “I have some friends in Cascade I can probably stay with.”

Blair nodded but regrouped and smiled. “The CSG can pay for a hotel room; we do it all the time when sentinels come from other parts of the country.” Jim considered this. He was sure Simon or Joel could put him up but it would be a lot easier on everyone if he had a hotel room to stay in.

“That would be good,” he admitted and watched Blair nod as he paced the room.

“As soon as I am out, I’ll call Mrs. Glassbaum and arrange for it,” Blair answered sounding like he was being released from a prison and not a hospital emergency room. Jim smiled at the tone, wanting to escape from hospitals was obviously something he and his guide had in common. Stopping his movements, Blair turned back to Jim thoughtfully. “Not that I’m not grateful that you did but how did you find me?”

“Mrs. Glassbaum,” Jim answered. “She called me.” He looked over the guide. “She told me about the bonding. She also told me you haven’t been eating right. She didn’t have to tell me you haven’t been sleeping, I could tell by the dark circles under your eyes. But you do owe her Chief. She tracked me down and came to talk to me.”

“She’s a great secretary,” Blair agreed. “And I will thank her, maybe with some flowers.” He watched as a nurse entered the room with some forms before directing them to an office to be discharged, Jim following Blair. 

It didn’t take long for the anthropologist to finish up the paperwork and exit the hospital, Jim leading Blair to his truck and dropping him at the CSG before heading off to his hotel with the promise to meet for dinner.

***Part Ten – Complications Arise

Richard Davis looked up from his desk as Blair Sandburg entered the room. Speculatively he let his brown eyes trail over the anthropologist and smiled even as he rose to meet the director. “Hi Blair, are you alright? I heard you went to the hospital.”

“I’m fine.” Blair smiled in response as he walked over to Richard’s desk. He had already seen Mrs. Glassbaum, a large bouquet of flowers in hand, and arranged for her to clear his calendar and get Jim Ellison a hotel room for a week.

“Rumor has it you’ve bonded to - Jim Ellison.” The slight pause before naming the sentinel more than anything conveyed Richard’s surprise.

Blair nodded. “He told me I was a guide when we were up at his cabin but I never realized what that could mean.”

“Funny I don’t remember you mentioning that,” Richard answered taking his seat and gently moving his papers away as Blair sat on the edge of his desk.

Blair rolled his eyes. “Give me a break man, it’s been a heavy week. I met a sentinel, found out I was guide, went through bonding stress and I guess now moved into bonding.”

“Ellison bonded?” The tone sounded surprised as Richard raised an eyebrow.

Richard Davis, Blair’s executive assistant, came highly recommended. Never friends, the pair were nonetheless respectful of and complimented each other’s abilities, Richard being an amazing organizer and brilliant publicist. Hearing him speak at a dinner given by a mutual friend about the outrageous conditions sentinels had lived under while wards of the Sentinel Institute and needing someone to organize the CSG and represent it with the media, Blair had made some discrete inquiries about the man before asking Richard if he would be interested in interviewing for a position with the CSG. Richard had agreed and after a brief interview where he explained his beliefs that sentinels needed the support of guides but not the enslavement of guides, had been hired. Mainly, he kept things organized for the CSG and recruited sentinels, but he also acted as the spokesmen for the CSG. He was tall, just over six feet, but despite his height he was fine boned, almost delicate, without appearing thin and lanky. His brown hair was always blown back to perfection and his clothes fashionable and elegant on his well proportioned frame. He had large chocolate brown eyes and well shaped eyebrows that framed a face that had high cheek bones and a slightly turned up nose. The man was handsome and his personality lent itself perfectly to a public image so he was the perfect CSG spokesmen.

Thinking over Richard’s question, Blair gave a smile that softened his face as he nodded. “He agreed to bond.”

“Blair, do you know what that can mean for the CSG. If Ellison is willing to be part of the CSG it will open the door for other sentinels.”

“If I can convince him,” Blair answered and Richard turned and stared at him in surprise.

“What? He’s bonding to you and didn’t agree to join the CSG?”

“We haven’t gotten that far in our relationship,” Blair admitted softly giving a wry smile as he watched Richard shake his head in disbelief.

“As you are the head of the CSG I think it is an important conversation, don’t you?”

“Give Jim and me a little time man. Anyway, I am going to try and get him to next Friday’s Meet & Greet.” He looked down from his perch on the desk. “I have to tell you the most important thing about this Rich. Jim spent a year and a half with a South American tribe, the Chopec. He was trained by their shaman to use his senses without a guide. Hell, he was even taught by them how to identify guides. Can you imagine what that could do for the Meet & Greets? Do you know what that could do for sentinels who haven’t found their guides?”

Richard sat back in shock. “Is that how he got past Brackett?”

“No, I think that was just his natural stubbornness and drive.”

“I’ve had first hand experience with the stubbornness,” Richard agreed, remembering when he had visited Jim hoping to get the sentinel to join the CSG. “He would be a huge asset.” 

Blair nodded and stood. “I’m going to clear my desk and head home. The doctors ordered me to take the next week off but if you need anything.” He left the sentence hanging as he stood and headed for the door.

Walking into his office Blair looked over at his desk. He had been avoiding it since coming back to the CSG mostly because he felt nauseous every time he thought about Jim reading through the notes he had written after his meeting with Brackett. He couldn’t believe he had been so insensitive as to write up the things Brackett had told him and he felt awful that Jim had seen the papers. Taking a seat, his fingers shaking, he gathered the papers Jim had thrown down and set aside the notes from Brackett slowly ripping them to shreds before throwing the confetti in the garbage. Again he reviewed the file. Jim would probably still be unhappy with the contents, any contents, the man was a private person, but it no longer contained the details of his torture and rape.

Putting the folder down on his desk Blair looked at his calendar, noting the Meet & Greet date. He wasn’t sure how he would do it but he was going to get Jim to that function. Gathering his laptop he turned and headed out stopping to again thank his secretary before going home to change and meet Jim for dinner.

Though Jim would have liked Wonder Burger, after all he was in Cascade and there was no Wonder Burger up where he currently lived, he agreed to meet Blair at a small Chinese Restaurant not far from where he had lived on Prospect. 

The Lotus Petal was a small family owned business. Jim had often dined there both when he was married and post marriage and the family greeted him like a returning son before ushering him to a small quiet corner in the back of the restaurant, immediately putting down some dim sum and bringing over a tall cold beer while Jim waited for Blair.

Jim was happily drinking the beer and munching on the large tray of dim sum when the anthropologist was led to the table by one of the waiters.

“Hey Chief,” he greeted as Blair took a seat and looked around at the small restaurant, his eyes moving over the small artifacts and décor with interest. It was not the usual Chinese style restaurant but understated and quiet, a good place for a person with enhanced senses. It was tastefully decorated using light rather than color to emphasize and decorate the room with a few small pieces of porcelain and silk hangings as accents. The owners obviously had some understanding of the principles of Feng Shui and Blair noted the five elements represented throughout the restaurant balancing the décor. Naomi he decided would love this place. Next time his mother was in Cascade he would make a point of bringing her here.

“This place is nice Jim. I guess you know it because you lived near here.”

Jim nodded his agreement. “I used to come in here with Carolyn. After we divorced I helped the owners out when their daughter had a problem with an overzealous boyfriend. It wasn’t a big deal but they treat me like a relative.”

Blair nodded again letting his eyes glance around the room as a waiter came over carrying menus. “How was your day?” Blair asked ordering a beer and glancing over the menu.

“Fine. I met the couple renting my loft. They wanted to extend the lease but I let them know I was moving back.”

“Did they let you look around?”

“No and I didn’t ask. I could tell from the door it’s going to need a good cleaning.”

“I wonder if someone who wasn’t a sentinel would have thought that.”

“Oh yes,” Jim nodded. “Crumbs on the counter, dishes in the sink and they have a dog.” Jim actually shuddered and Blair smiled, envisioning Jim cleaning dog hair. He didn’t want to think about what Jim would make of his place.

“I arranged a hotel room for you. You can check in tomorrow. We actually maintain a sentinel friendly suite. It has safe toiletries, high end linens and natural cleansers and oh a really well stocked fridge. Nothing with preservatives,” Blair looked down appearing to concentrate on his menu as he continued but Jim could see his cheeks flush. “I cleared my calendar for the next week. Richard will be in charge. Is there anything in particular we should do?”

“Do?”

“Yeah, bonding?”

“Oh.” Jim considered the question. “We could take in a Jags game.”

“I don’t mean male bonding Jim,” Blair rolled his eyes and watched the detective smile with amusement.

“I do. Blair, bonding isn’t something you do, you can’t force it. That’s why the Sentinel Institute couldn’t make sentinels bond to guides. It’s about two people getting in sync so much so that the one who is the guide can troubleshoot the sentinel’s sense problems.” Jim paused to sip beer. “The easiest way for that to happen is for the two to share experiences.” Jim paused and frowned looking at Blair. “You do like the Jags, right?”

“My favorite team.” Jim nodded as though this were a vital piece of information and then glanced over as the owner came to take their orders. 

The food was just as exceptional as the décor and the meal left Blair feeling relaxed as the pair spent hours talking (well mostly Blair talked) about anthropology, the CSG, and the tests he would run on Jim to gauge his sentinel abilities, Blair realizing that the Sentinel Institute had not gotten any real idea of what Jim was capable of. It was a pleasant evening and everything but the tests sounded pleasant to Jim listening to Blair’s voice, letting the soft voice calm his senses as the guide jumped excitedly from one topic to another. All too soon it was late and they had been talking for hours. Reluctantly, they made their way back to their vehicles and Blair drove home while Jim went to the hotel he had checked into that morning.

The next morning after checking out and moving into the suites the CSG maintained, Jim went to see Simon and the crew of Major Crimes. Getting VIP treatment when he arrived at the PD, he was ushered straight up to the sixth floor where he walked in to Major Crimes. It looked as busy as ever and so it took a minute until heads turned and a shout rang out of “Jim,” before Rafe and H came barreling over to shake his hand, clapping him on the back. Rhonda soon joined the party throwing her arms around Jim and giving him a kiss on the cheek to whistles by Rafe, and the donut girl who was just entering the room, smiled, handing Jim a jelly donut on the house.

It was wonderful walking into Major Crimes and Jim talked for a few minutes with his friends before turning and moving over to Simon’s office, knocking on the door.

Hearing “Come,” he entered the room and Simon looked up and dropped the pages he had been studying with a wide grin. “Jim I didn’t think you’d be back to Major Crimes for another couple of months.” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t kill Sandburg, did you?” Simon asked slowly.

“No, I actually bonded with him.”

“You bonded!” Simon couldn’t keep the surprise from being heard.

Jim shrugged and took a seat. “It’s a lot less messy than murder, less body parts to hide.”

“I was sure you’d kick the kid’s ass, not bond with him.”

Jim nodded, but gave a small smile thinking of Blair. “I would have too if I didn’t understand why he was investigating me. It was bonding stress, Simon. He inadvertently bonded with me while he was with me during the blizzard.” He paused and then added. “In a way it was really my fault. He got stuck with me during the storm and I knew he was a compatible guide. I should have warned him off, not that I’m sure he would have listened. He’s enthusiastic about being a guide.”

Simon chuckled. “So what does that mean? You being bonded.”

Jim shrugged again. “I’ll be coming back to Cascade.” He leaned back watching Simon. “Got any openings for a sentinel detective?” he asked and Simon, sitting back, smiled.

“It just so happens we do have an opening. We lost this one detective, a real hard ass and haven’t found anyone to replace him.” Jim smiled but Simon could see the relief in his eyes. “Actually, I think politicians would bend over backwards to make sure you get your position back. After the mess with the Sentinel Institute…” Simon left the rest of the sentence unfinished but watched Jim nod his understanding.

The Sentinel Institute was a topic both men had avoided since Jim’s release. Simon had known Jim was a sentinel long before Jim was caught and had kept that information to himself, backing him up and helping him with his senses while Jim worked at Major Crimes. Then when Brackett exposed Jim, he tried everything he could to help Jim when he was taken into the Sentinel Institute. He had called every official he could, he had tried to get Jim assigned to Major Crimes offering to be his ward, had even tried to visit him at the Institute but his efforts had been blocked. When the abuses had started to come out he had even considered trying to break Jim out of the Institute, not even sure where he was since the Institute would not give out information about where the sentinels were assigned but then Jim had gotten word to him about Brackett and Simon had heaved a sigh in relief knowing his detective had and would weather the Sentinel Institute abuse. “This sentinel thing is still new, how does the guide thing work?”

“Sandburg and I will still have to work it out. We haven’t discussed much yet but I can use my senses on the job if he’s around.”

“Would he want to be a cop?” Simon asked cautiously remembering the unorthodox young man and not entirely happy with the idea.

“Doubt it but we could get him an observer’s pass. Or maybe he could be a consultant to the department. He’s got a doctorate in anthropology. I’d be willing to bet he could make a decent profiler even unofficially.”

Simon nodded. “I’ll look into it and start to arrange your return. The PD’s policy is sentinels returning after the Institute are to be considered returning from a medical leave of absence with all their pension and time intact. When will you be ready to start?”

“As soon as my loft is ready.”

“And until then, what are you going to do about Sandburg?”

“Not sure. I’ll have to be in and out of Cascade. I can’t be away from him too long, not with the bond settling.”

“You’re welcome to Daryl’s room. He’s away at college.” Jim smiled at the offer.

“Thanks Simon. I’ll let you know if I need to crash, but this week the CSG is putting me up. It seems they keep a suite for visiting sentinels.” 

“You’re joining them?”

“I don’t know,” Jim answered shaking his head with confusion. “Maybe. Sandburg runs the CSG and he’s a pretty decent guy. And truthfully, he’s stumbling trying to help sentinels. I could steer him in the right direction.”

“It might not be a bad idea. They can help you get back some of the things taken from you.”

The expression on Jim’s face tightened as he looked away from his boss. “I’ll be getting my loft back and I’ve gotten the rent from the couple for the past six months, my job,” he indicated the office still looking everywhere but at Simon, “and badge are being given back, anything else they took can’t be gotten back Simon,” he said softly. “No one can change what was done to me, I’m just lucky to have survived it.”

“Jim,” Simon leaned forward his face earnest. “But you did survive. You beat that damn Institute and Brackett.” Jim nodded and Simon hesitated for a moment before continuing, knowing Jim Ellison, hard nosed detective, would probably shoot down his next suggestion. “You should speak with someone about what happened. I could arrange for you to speak with one of our department counselors.” 

But Jim shook his head. “No, I can handle it.”

“I don’t doubt it, but why should you have to?” 

Jim considered the question intense blue eyes looking at the Captain of Major Crimes. “I’ll think about it Simon.”

Simon nodded wondering if Sandburg might help push Jim into some counseling. He knew the CSG had offered counseling to all the sentinels. “So when do I get to meet your guide?”

“I thought you did.”

“No, I met a bond stressed anthropologist. I want to meet the guide Jim Ellison agreed to bond to,” Simon answered with the insight that had led to him becoming the Captain of Major Crimes.

“We could meet for dinner one day this week. Let me check when Blair’s free and call you.” Simon nodded wondering but unwilling to ask about the relationship between sentinel and guide and Jim soon left. Blair was going to meet him at the suite for lunch. 

Blair arrived at lunch time and the pair went to a small restaurant near Rainier for Italian before heading to a lab in Rainier where Blair had arranged to get Jim’s hearing tested. On his own, Jim’s hearing was enhanced beyond normal but with Blair beside him, anchoring him so he could open his sense completely, Jim’s hearing was off the scale and the guide could barely contain his excitement as they reviewed the test results. “I can’t wait to test your other senses,” he told Jim who sighed with resignation as Blair scheduled tests in other Rainier labs for the next few days.

Finishing up, the pair went back to the suite and had dinner in the restaurant downstairs and finally began to talk about a subject they had avoided, the future. 

“I went to Major Crimes today,” Jim said sitting on the sofa and stretching out his long legs as Blair opened a bottle of wine they had picked up and poured two glasses. “Banks offered me my job.”

Blair paused in the process of bringing the glass to his lips. “You wanted that, didn’t you?” He watched Jim nod. “Then that’s really good.” Blair took a sip of his wine to stall. “You know Jim if I could work with you, we could pull all the stops on your senses. You would be a monster, a walking crime lab.”

Jim smiled and Blair found he couldn’t help but answer with a smile of his own. “I didn’t know if you could. I mean you are the director of the CSG.”

“I could work out a schedule. I don’t have to be there all the time even if I don’t keep bankers’ hours.” 

“Bankers don’t either,” Jim muttered as Blair took a seat beside Jim, puppy dog eyes focusing on the sentinel.

Hesitantly, Blair continued, “It would be easier if I had a little help from you.”

Jim gave a theatrical and exaggerated sigh already knowing he would give in. Blair needed the help and the sentinels needed the help too. “I might…help you develop a training program for sentinels. If you can give me a couple hours help when I go out to a crime scene I could probably give you a couple of evenings a week in return.”

Blair nodded agreeing. “Great man, I’ll get the paperwork started to sign you up with the CSG.”

“Whoa, slow down Chief. I didn’t say I’d join.”

“Oh come on Jim,” Blair coaxed. “There’s nothing wrong with the CSG. I’ll tell you what, come Friday to the Meet & Greet and see it in action.” Blair turned and his eyes lit with amusement and a touch of mischief. “I want to show off my sentinel anyway.”

Jim seeing the smile chuckled with amusement. “Show off your sentinel, Sandburg,” he challenged and Blair bit his lip wondering if he had gone too far by laying claim to Jim but then Jim nodded smiling though his face turned stern. “I’ll come but no promises.”

For the next few days Blair had Jim’s senses tested at various labs at Rainier and the two spent a lot of time in each other’s company. Blair also spent time learning how to work as a guide and the pair went to a Jags game one night and met Simon Banks for a dinner another night. Simon admitted after the meal that he found “the kid okay” and Jim had nodded his understanding.

In the meantime, Blair studied Jim taking notes all the time and found that he needed to rework some of his sentinel ideas. Yes, guides grounded sentinels and no, guides did not need to own their sentinels but there was a definite physical relationship. When Jim really used his senses, pushing them, he needed physical contact with Blair and Blair found he constantly wanted physical contact with his sentinel. The need was like a subtle itch. He supposed that was where the idea of using sex for bonding came from; the need for physical contact for grounding. The Sentinel Institute had suggested it and unfortunately, that had led to the rape of the sentinels sold by the Institute, Jim included.

Blair wished their contact would go further, especially since he was very quickly falling for the sentinel, but under the circumstances Blair was hesitant to try any sexual overtures and Jim didn’t make any at all. Sooner or later he would have to broach the question, even if it were asked as a theoretical question, since Jim was their main fount of knowledge, but Blair never seemed to find the right moment. Thinking it over, he decided the Friday Meet & Greet might be his opportunity as there would be sentinels and guides there in need of answers.

Thanking all the spirits that watched over sentinels and guides for Jim’s agreement to attend Friday’s Meet & Greet Blair called Richard. 

He had been in contact with Mrs. Glassbaum all week just checking on things but hadn’t spoken with his assistant since leaving Friday.

“Hey Richard,” he greeted when he called on Wednesday. “How are you man?”

“I’m fine Blair, how’s guiding?”

“It’s fine,” Blair laughed. 

“I was wondering when you’d call. Checking up on the Meet & Greet?” 

“No, of course not,” Blair answered and heard silence at the other end of the phone. “Well, maybe,” he amended.

“Everything is ready, Blair. The food is ordered, the room is cleaned with sentinel safe products and the support staff is standing by.”

“How many sentinels and guides are coming?” 

“Twelve sentinels and about thirty perspective guides.”

“I can’t wait to see what Jim thinks of the guides,” Blair answered.

“He’s coming?”

“Yep add him to the list.”

“Great, so we will see you Friday then?”

“You will,” Blair hung up and went to dress for dinner. He was meeting Jim again but he would soon have to consider what to do after this week. Jim was heading back to the mountains since his loft wasn’t ready and Blair knew he couldn’t go another two and half months without seeing his sentinel.

By Friday, Blair and Jim still had not discussed, much less resolved, the issue of their separation and Blair was thinking about that as he dressed for the Meet & Greet. Jim would be meeting him there. He was thinking that somehow he would have to convince Jim to come back to Cascade before the two months were up. He was willing to offer his place, hell he was willing to offer his body for Jim’s use, but somehow he didn’t think Jim would want either but he needed Jim on so many levels.

Heading to the CSG a little early so he could be sure things were set, excited about Jim being there and wondering what Jim would make of the potential guides, Blair tried to compose scenarios where he could ask Jim intimate questions without upsetting the sentinel. He was still considering these as he walked in the door and, after going to his office to greet Mrs. Glassbaum, walked into the Meet & Greet room.

The Meet & Greet room was a large conference room made to look like anything but a conference room. Small café style tables were placed about the room with crisp white table cloths. In one corner a buffet had been set up with hot and cold foods, none overly spiced, in another corner, water, juices, soda, wine and beer. The room had special lighting installed that would be easy on photosensitive eyes and very low classical music played in the background. On each table was a guest list so sentinels and guides could refer to the names of people they met and a one paragraph bio about the person that was usually forwarded by the sentinel or guide or dictated to Mrs. Glassbaum and what they did for a living, or in the case of sentinels, what they had done for a living before the Sentinel Institute. 

Waving to Richard as he scanned the room, Blair decided all was well and then walked over to executive assistant. “Hi Blair, how is guiding going?”

“Good,” Blair smiled looking around. 

“You know today you are not the director but a guest, still I’ve left some room should you want to make a small speech.” 

“Thanks. For the most part I will stick close to my sentinel.” Richard chuckled at this as several people entered the room and he went to greet the guests. Looking down at the list on the table Blair glanced over the names and frowned. Richard had said there would be about twelve sentinels coming today but counting down the list he noticed twenty two names with Jim’s name first on the list. Wondering about this, he glanced at the bios, in particular Jim’s and froze.

“Jim Ellison, our most recent registrant with the CSG was a highly decorated detective with the Major Crimes Unit of Cascade Washington until he was taken into the Sentinel Institute. Unwilling to accept enslavement, he was tortured by both the Institute and his guardian, but despite this was able to circumvent his supposed guardian and save the country from the release of a deadly virus. Since his release he has been living in the Cascade Hills until he recently bonded to the director of the CSG, Blair Sandburg. The CSG will be working closely with Jim Ellison to help sentinels and guides.”

Blair looked over the paragraph, his heartbeat accelerating as he tried to take calming breaths. The bio would not be bad if it were true, but Jim hadn’t agreed to join the CSG and Blair didn’t know why Richard wrote this or how Jim would react to it. Walking over to Richard, still holding the paper in a tight clenched hand, he pulled his assistant aside. “Richard why did you write this, I told you Jim hadn’t agreed to anything.”

Richard, glancing at the sentinels moving about the room, pulled Blair over to a corner and whispered, “You and I both know you’ll get him to join and just listing that he did brought in nine more sentinels in two days.”

“But we can’t use him to further our ends,” Blair whispered back his voice low but evidently angry. “It’s wrong.”

“Look Blair, it’s no big deal. If he gets mad just tell Ellison that I made a mistake.”

Blair looked at Richard shaking his head. “Richard we can’t just manipulate…” he stopped as he watched Jim enter the room, he eyes sweeping the room before settling on Blair with a frown and Blair realized Jim could tell he was upset. “We’ll discuss this later right now I have to do damage control.” Pasting on a smile he walked up to Jim. “Hey Jim,” I’m glad you could make it.” 

“Something wrong Blair?”

“No, um…”

“Hey Ellison,” one of the guests walked over. “John McIntyre, “he put out his hand. “I was at the Institute with you. You helped me with a zoning problem.” Jim nodded, shaking the man’s hand. “When I got a call from the CSG saying you had joined I figured it was safe so here I am.”

“The call that I had joined,” Jim repeated his eyes on Blair as the anthropologist suddenly found the floor very interesting.

“Yeah, I mean you did join right?”

“Well let’s just say the Director and I are working that out.”

John McIntyre nodded, not quite understanding, a slight frown creasing his fair forehead. “But you did bond to Dr. Sandburg? That’s what the CSG rep said.” Jim looked over at McIntyre and seeing the stressed look, nodded.

“That I did,” he answered taking hold of Blair’s arm as someone called out McIntyre’s name and the sentinel excused himself to go talk with a woman across the room. “Sandburg I’d like to speak with you,” Jim whispered, his voice angry.

Blair winced at the tight hold on his arm. “We can go to my office,” the anthropologist murmured softly and Jim nodded, releasing and following the guide out of the room.

Entering his office, Blair turned and looked at the angry sentinel. “I didn’t do this Jim. I didn’t know and I’ve already yelled at Richard about it. I wouldn’t use you that way.”

Jim considered the guide, his face showing no trace of whatever emotions he felt though his jaw muscles twitched as he ground his teeth staring down at the guide. But his voice was cold as he answered, “Sandburg I’m beginning to think the CSG is just as dangerous as the Sentinel Institute. First you overstep your authority and no one in this damn organization thinks to challenge you about it, and now your assistant uses my name to recruit sentinels. You’re the Director and you couldn’t protect your own sentinel from their manipulation. What does that say about the CSG?” The last question came out in a cold monotone that made Blair shiver. He was going to deny Jim’s allegation, but stopped realizing to some extent what Jim was saying was true.

“Oh man,” Blair pushed back his hair, pacing momentarily and then turned to Jim. “It says I have to review the philosophy of the Center with the people working here so they are clear on what they can and can’t do. Please Jim this wouldn’t have happened if I were here this week,” Blair answered with assurance but despite the way he sounded, Blair was practically cringing inside. Once again he had screwed up things for Jim and yes, it wouldn’t have happened if he were here but it shouldn’t have happened even though he wasn’t.

“And that makes things so much better. Did you ever think Chief that maybe they overstepped because they saw you do it and so think it’s okay?”

Blair paused in his movements and looked at Jim, considering the argument and ultimately agreeing with it. “I’m sorry Jim. It won’t happen again.” He looked up, his eyes pleading. “Please come back to the Meet & Greet. I’ll…I’ll talk to Richard after. You can be part of the conversation.”

Jim considered it. He really didn’t want to stay but he couldn’t just walk out on the other sentinels and something had to be said about using his name for the CSG’s own purposes. He nodded. “Fine, but be warned Sandburg, I will not be used again.”

“Absolutely, man,” he promised a hand reaching out to touch his sentinel, but Jim stiffened pulling away and Blair’s hand dropped listlessly to his side his stomach churning at the idea his sentinel might not want him. Closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath to center himself, Blair consciously pulled himself together before they returned to the Meet & Greet.

All of Blair’s scenarios and questions he had daydreamed about were lost as he watched Jim, the sentinel’s body tense, his jaw muscles twitching as he read the bio that Richard had written about him. In his head Blair kept hearing Jim’s words, “You’re the Director and you couldn’t protect your own sentinel.” And deep inside Blair knew Jim was right. He hadn’t protected Jim, twice. And it was the Director’s responsibility to do just that. Thinking over this and how he had failed; Blair stood by the entrance mechanically greeting and acknowledging the incoming sentinels until he heard Richard call the group together.

Looking at his assistant he moved over next to Jim and watched as Richard greeted the gathering and gave a brief history of how the Director had started up these meetings to help sentinels meet possible guides before glancing at Blair. “And this week,” he continued with a smile, “our Director is also a guest of the Meet & Greet since he has within the last week bonded to Sentinel Jim Ellison.” He indicated that Blair should continue and Blair stepped forward aware of Jim leaning against a wall watching, arms crossed.

“Hello everyone,” he smiled. “As Richard Davis has mentioned this week I am a guest of the Meet & Greet.” He glanced at Jim, giving him a slight smile. Not seeing any warmth reflected back he swallowed and then continued. “Sentinel Ellison and I are still working out some of the kinks in our relationship, we are newly bonded, but I look forward to learning about sentinels and guides and using that information to support CSG efforts and all sentinels. I guess I’m learning about this from the ground up, but there is nothing better than hands on experience.” Blair paused a moment looking down. “I do have to make one correction though.” Blair looked around the room as Richard shook his head with exasperation. “I know that we listed Jim as having joined the CSG but that is not entirely correct.” Blair gave a quick glance at Jim and then back to the gathered group watching him. “He hasn’t actually joined yet, he is just visiting, but I am hoping he will soon. In the meantime, thank you for coming and just have some drinks, some food and meet and greet each other. Hopefully, some sentinels might find some guides in this group but if not, we will keep doing these. Thank you,” Blair turned and moved to Jim’s side and felt Jim’s hand slide onto his shoulder squeezing it.

“Thank you Blair,” he said softly and the guide smiled up at his sentinel, relief flooding him at his sentinel’s words and touch.

“It was just something I had to do Jim.” He looked around as the guests started toward the food. “And I’m going to hand in my resignation to the CSG. You were right. If I can’t protect my own sentinel from manipulation I shouldn’t be heading up this organization.”

The statement caught Jim by surprise and he frowned as Blair turned to get a drink. One thing Jim didn’t want was for Blair to fall on his sword and give up his career. That drastic a change didn’t need to be made. “Hold it Chief,” Jim caught Blair’s arm as he started to move away, and turned him back looking into his face. “Let’s not be hasty here. Can we discuss this first? You are in a position to do a lot of good.” Blair looked up into Jim’s clear blue eyes.

“Or a lot of damage,” he answered honestly. “And I think you are right. It’s what I have done.”

“Maybe,” Jim agreed. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed.” Blair thought about it and shrugged.

“You’re more important to me,” he said softly and watched Jim’s features soften, a smile of affection crossing his face. 

“Blair you can have both.” Jim glanced around the room a moment, his mind moving swiftly over the problem, knowing there was one solution though he was less than thrilled with it as it would require him committing to the CSG, something he hadn’t decided whether or not he wanted to do.

“Look I have a little time until I go back to work. I’ll help you iron out some kinks.” Jim’s smile grew as Blair’s eyes widened in amazement, his face lighting up in a way that Jim decided was beautiful. Internally he sighed, knowing he was quickly falling for this man.

“Oh man,” he almost shouted and then dropped his voice sheepishly. “That would be incredible. I can put you on salary. I can…”

“Stop talking and get food,” Jim suggested and Blair stopped short.

“Yeah that too,” he heard Jim chuckle as he moved toward the food practically bouncing up and down with excitement. “I know that you’ll need a place to stay. You could stay with me, I’ll just have to clean the place a little,” saying that was like saying the Grand Canyon was a small hole but Blair ignored that fact. He’d work that out later when he had time. “It will be so cool, we can work together.” He stopped short in front of a tray of baked ziti, Jim practically colliding with him as Blair looked around at some of the people talking. “Hey Jim,” he let his voice drop. “Can you tell me who in this room is a guide?”

“You,” Jim answered, moving around him and grabbing the spoon to get some of the food.

“Very funny, who else?”

Jim gave what he suspected was the first of many long suffering sighs and let his eyes sweep around the room. “The woman in the blue dress, the man talking with McIntyre and the two men sitting at that table near the door.”

“That’s it. There are thirty people here we interviewed for possible positions as guides.”

Jim shrugged. “That’s it Chief, just because someone cares it doesn’t automatically make them guide material.”

“Well then what does?”

“It has to do with the ability to connect to a sentinel. I guess empathize.”

“My mother would call someone like that a people person,” Blair answered looking around. He would have to review those four candidates’ applications and see if there was anything that indicated they were guides. Later, he would tell Richard about this after they had their little talk with Jim. “Okay,” he took the spoon from Jim and scooped some food onto his own plate before following Jim over to one of the numerous small tables set about the room and taking a seat. “We can start from that perspective.” He looked up at Jim. “I wonder if they will find a sentinel here,” he whispered and then wondered why he had whispered since every sentinel in the room could probably hear them. Jim’s answer was to glance meaningfully at McIntyre.

“I think one of them has.” Blair following Jim’s gaze smiled.

The CSG Meet & Greets always started at 2:00 on Fridays, but there was never a set ending time. Usually, they ran between 2 and 4 hours and so it was not surprising when at 6:00 the last of the guests left. Two sentinels had paired with tentative guides, one being McIntyre and the other a sentinel named John Green who had paired with the person Jim had called the woman in the blue dress. The other two potential guides that Jim had identified had not paired with a sentinel but Blair flagged their names to be sure they were invited to attend future Meet & Greets. 

Watching the last of the guests go and the cleaning crew arrive, not realizing that he was leaning against Jim’s broad chest, Blair considered what he would do next. He knew ahead of him was going to be a difficult meeting with Richard and Jim and though he didn’t like it he was anxiously looking forward to it and more correctly to putting it behind him. It would be a way to clear the air and Blair knew he needed to do that, that and give his sentinel his say. Blair intended to follow that up with some serious policy statements to all staff. In the meantime, he needed to think about the guides he had chosen. Usually he interviewed on Monday and Tuesday mornings but he could switch it to later in the day or evening if it would ensure that Jim sat in on the interviews. Having someone who could spot a guide couldn’t be ignored. 

“Problem Chief?” Jim asked equally unaware of their posture and the fact that his hand kept sliding up and down Blair’s arm from shoulder to elbow.

“No, no problem. I was just thinking it would save so much time if you would just sit in on the interviews with guides and give me your input. It could help us.”

“One thing at a time,” Jim said softly and Blair took that as a hopeful response. It hadn’t been an out and out “no” like last time he had asked. “Right now you and I have to chat with your assistant.” 

Blair nodded his agreement and straightening, ignoring the feeling of loss as he separated from his sentinel, walked over to Richard. “We are going to have a little chat in my office in fifteen minutes, Richard.” 

The publicist/executive assistant looked at Blair and nodded. “Ellison’s still mad?”

“We’ll discuss it in my office,” Blair sidestepped the question and turned back to Jim repeating what he knew Jim, as a sentinel, had already heard. “We can go to my office. Richard will join us there.”

By the time, Richard left Blair’s office, forty minutes later, pale and shaking, Blair had a better understanding and appreciation for the detective Jim Ellison. The sentinel had been downright scary in his focused interrogation of the publicist and had in under ten minutes with little more than a handful of questions, gotten Richard to confess to using Jim’s name to further the CSG’s agenda and elicited both an apology and a promise to never mention Jim’s name again without the sentinel’s express permission. Jim had done little more than look at Richard and ask a few pointed questions for the man to cave and Blair was glad he had never once (except for a few civil obedience protests) ever ventured outside the law. Jim was a force to be reckoned with. Thinking back to his meeting with Brackett, Blair wondered how that man could ever think he could subdue the force that was Jim Ellison. It just couldn’t happen. 

Blair had been quiet during the interrogation, knowing better than to interfere but felt he needed to say something once they were alone in the office. “Jim, he isn’t a bad guy. He just got carried away.”

“And I ran him over the coals for it,” Jim agreed, “Just like I did you, for much the same reason.”

Blair nodded his understanding. “I’ll have a meeting with my staff on Monday about this and about policy. This won’t happen again, not in the CSG, not while I’m at its head,” he added adamantly.

“Fair enough,” Jim rose and stretched. “I have to head back home in the morning,” he said casually though he saw Blair’s pinched look as his eyes widened. The bond was still new and Jim knew being away from each other would be stressful for both of them. “Don’t worry Chief, I’ll be back in a week. I have to close up the place. And Blair, does that offer of a place to stay still stand?”

“Of course,” the guide whispered before adding quickly, “But why a week, I could come up this weekend and help you close up, I could.”

“Chief, breathe,” Jim stopped him. “I have to put things in order. I’ll need a week,” he said softly coming over and resting a hand on the guide’s shoulder, his sensitive fingers feeling the tension. “You can call me every night while you are cleaning your place.” Blair smiled and nodded, his eyes looking over Jim’s face as though trying to memorize the features and Jim, seeing it, pulled the guide into a quick hug. “Don’t worry, I’m not abandoning you,” he whispered softly before pulling away and turning toward the door. “Call me every night, Blair.”

Blair nodded, watching Jim walk out the door and then sat down, his knees suddenly going weak as he felt the loss of his sentinel.

One of the hardest things Jim had to do was walk out the door and leave his guide. The bond had hit with full force once he opened his senses to it, and leaving his guide made him feel sick, but Jim did need to close up his place and beyond that he needed to know that he had enough self control to survive for at least brief periods without a guide. Control was important to the sentinel - some of the Major Crimes crew used to tease him calling him a control freak - and he honestly knew he was so he needed to test his own abilities and see just how well he could work while bonded to Blair. 

In the past few days Blair had tested all of his senses in various labs at Rainier and they were high – higher than they had ever been before, that a direct result of bonding. But higher meant needing more control and a better handle on them and Jim would be damned if he would give up on controlling his own senses just because it could be easier with a guide. Jim had never been one to take the easy route.

Driving back up to his home after picking up some supplies, he kept all his senses on an even keel keeping them lowered, especially scent as he entered his small farmhouse that had been closed up for a week. Airing out the place, despite the cold weather, he began gathering things he would want to bring back down to Cascade. There wasn’t much that was personal, Brackett had seen to that but even before Brackett and the Sentinel Institute there hadn’t been much. 

Packing was a slow business because as he packed he stopped to think about the items he had packed and let them bring back memories. Memories of happier times, sometimes sadder times such as a clipping from a magazine about his last mission to Peru when he had lost his team, and memories of things he had lost while incarcerated by the Sentinel Institute. He hadn’t asked the young couple renting the loft what had become of the things he had been forced to abandon. He hoped they were somewhere in storage in the basement but there was no guarantee. 

Stopping after several hours, he picked up a cold beer and studied the room. He really didn’t need the week to pack, hell he didn’t even need the weekend, but he needed the time to see how much control he had over his even more sensitive senses.

Throwing some logs on the fire and taking a seat on the sofa he leaned back, relaxing. He would deal with the bedroom closet the next day and maybe speak with Simon about returning to the PD sooner.

With a sigh he closed his eyes for a moment but when he opened them he was in a blue jungle. 

Jim was surprised but not worried by the location, he knew where he was. Incacha had taken him on spirit walks several times and he immediately recognized the place as he looked around and noticed a black jaguar standing by the trees. Incacha had told him the black jaguar was his spirit guide so it came as no surprise to see him standing there. Shrugging, he waved an arm. “I suppose you want me to follow you?” he asked. The feline didn’t answer but switched its tail turning toward the trees and then looking back. “Okay,” Jim gave in. He knew that he wasn’t leaving this place until he had completed whatever it was the shaman wanted him to complete. It had always been that way - when Incacha had him take a spirit walk he didn’t get out until he had completed the mission. Unfortunately, most of the time the mission was some bizarre spiritual sentinel insight. “Go ahead, I’ll follow.” He watched the large cat move into the jungle and he followed until he reached a large stone temple. On the steps stood Incacha. He was dressed the exact same way Jim had last seen him, before his rescue by the army. His hair was braided with small feathers weaved in and he was wearing breeches made from animal skin. His face, arms and legs were covered in the red and black paints that all Chopec warriors wore and his chest was bare. On his back was a quiver of bows and arrows.

“Enqueri,” Incacha inclined his head, his eyes and smile bright, his voice welcoming. “I am glad you could come,” he continued in the Chopec tongue.

“I don’t think I had much choice,” Jim grumbled and Incacha’s smile grew.

“You have never liked the spirit walks,” the native agreed. “But they have always been enlightening.”

Jim didn’t know if he would agree with that assessment but he was not about to argue with the shaman. “Why am I here?” he asked.

Incacha looked over at the jaguar as the large cat moved over to sit on the temple steps. “You have met your guide and so your senses are much stronger,” he stated. “You are bonded. Why do you still try to control your senses alone, sentinel? You have a guide, your true guide.”

“I need to know I can control them.” 

“You need to let your guide help you, it is his role and he needs to fulfill it,” the shaman answered sternly. “And you need to complete the bond.”

“What?”

“He is your soul mate Enqueri. Not all sentinels are given the gift of their soul mate. You need to accept the gift and complete the bond.”

“We’ve bonded,” Jim answered his face turning red at what he knew Incacha was implying.

“You know what I am saying,” the shaman demanded. “He will not betray you Enqueri, nor will he deny you if you seek a physical relationship. He wishes it also.”

“But what if I don’t?”

The shaman looked off with a sigh. “In your heart you desire this too and you are meant to be together. The spirits foretold it, that is why we would not let you bond with a tribal guide. You are destined for this man. Would you be dragged into your fate or embrace it and walk into the future as a guardian?”

“I’m not ready Incacha. You don’t know what happened to me.”

For one moment the anger left the shaman’s face replaced by concern and not a small amount of compassion. “I do Enqueri. I watched over your spirit animal. I saw the pain he suffered and knew the pain you suffered. But you will never get over this if you do not make the leap of faith and embrace your guide.”

Jim said nothing and Incacha pointed to the clearing where a gray wolf was slowly leaving the jungle. The wolf moved cautiously forward until it sat beside the jaguar, its head coming to rest on the large cat’s front paw. “That is your guide’s spirit animal beside your own,” Incacha said softly. “They are one and need to join to become whole. It is time for you to become whole. Too long you have struggled with your sentinel abilities alone. Accept the guide.”

Jim’s eyes opened and he sat up looking around as he thought about the spirit walk. “Accept the guide,” Incacha had said. Letting his eyes dance around the room Jim considered Incacha’s words. He wasn’t sure he was ready for a relationship with another man, not after Brackett, but maybe it was time to take the first steps. Maybe he didn’t need to stay away for a week, maybe Blair wouldn’t mind a houseguest a bit earlier. Smiling at the idea Jim stretched out his long legs. Blair would call this evening and Jim would broach the subject. And if Blair didn’t call, Jim would call him.

***Part Eleven – A Union Formed

Jim was just reaching for his phone thinking of calling Blair when the phone rang. Smiling, sure it was Blair on the other end; he picked up the phone, “Ellison.”

“Hi Jim are you busy?”

“No Chief, I was just getting ready to call you.”

“Really?”

Jim could hear the delight in the other man’s voice. “Yeah, I figured I’d see how my guide was doing.”

It was whispered almost silently but Jim heard Blair repeat, “my guide,” and smiled. 

“So are you cleaning your place?” he asked.

“I…uh…haven’t started yet but I will.”

“Good, maybe I could come back a little early and help you.”

“That would be great. When can you come?”

Jim couldn’t help but hear the enthusiasm and relief in Blair’s voice. “How about tomorrow or if that’s too soon I could come another day.”

“Tomorrow?” The answer came out as a squeak. “Tomorrow, definitely tomorrow would be great.” 

“Okay, I’ll finish packing in the morning and see you sometime in the late afternoon. We could go out to dinner.”

“Looking forward to it Jim.” Blair hung up the phone and Jim gathered everything he had already packed together for transport and moved to tackle the kitchen.

As Jim worked on the kitchen, Blair in a mad panic looked at his home. It was really large but it was also a drafty old warehouse with stacked crates acting as a room divider between the bedroom and living room - it wasn’t exactly “normal” clean, never mind “sentinel” clean. And Blair was pretty sure Jim would not like the rodents running around. He hadn’t really thought out his offer of a place to stay carefully, but told himself Jim was an ex soldier who had lived for 18 months in a jungle He would be able to deal with the conditions and anyway, Blair knew as the guide he could help him survive the environment. Wishing he could move in say, the next three hours, to a more conventional apartment, he grabbed the under utilized broom and mop and got to work.

The warehouse was clean by Blair’s standards (foregoing sleep he had spent most of the night cleaning and then had rushed out in the morning to buy more space heaters to warm the used part of the warehouse) when Jim rang and announced his presence on Sunday. Buzzing Jim in, Blair opened the door and smiled his eyes sweeping over Jim with relief before grabbing one of the suitcases the sentinel carried. In the back of his mind Blair considered he could hold the suitcase hostage to keep Jim here. “Hi Jim, come on in, mi casa es tu casa,” he led Jim into the living room as the sentinel’s eyes moved around the room speculatively.

“Chief this is a warehouse,” Jim began as he heard the snap of metal and made a conscious effort not to look in the direction of the sound. “What was that? Was that a mousetrap?” 

Blair winced. He had hoped not to bring up the rodents just yet. Embarrassed, he looked at his sentinel. “Oh no, mice are like small and cute but these,” he held his hands up two feet apart hoping Jim wouldn’t freak and watching Jim from beneath his lashes.

“How can you live like this?” Jim questioned taking a better look around the room he would be staying in and wondering if he might be better off taking his bags and heading back to the Cascade foothills.

“Where else am I going to get 10,000 square feet for 850 a month?”

Jim’s answer was an exaggerated sigh. He had after all lived in worse conditions and he had packed a bunch of sweaters so he would be warm. “Okay Chief,” he turned and looked at the anthropologist. “Where should I put my stuff?”

“I thought you could have the bedroom and I’ll take the couch,” Blair answered softly, leading Jim into the bedroom. 

The bedroom was without a doubt the nicest room in the warehouse. It had a queen size bed centermost in the room with a thick mint green comforter covering it. Two dressers took up space on opposite walls, one with a mirror, both with various size candles in small holders. A small night table stood adjacent to the bed with a lamp, its brown and green shade complimenting the bedding and throwing low lighting around the room. On the walls were various tapestries Blair had collected, mementos from his many trips as an anthropologist that added an extra touch to the room’s decor while hiding the bare walls beneath. When Blair did have company (specifically overnight guests) this was the room that needed to look good and Blair had made this room look less like a warehouse and more a conventional bedroom. With the candles lit, it would be a perfect site for seduction.

“I’m not chasing you out of your bed.”

“I spend more time sleeping on the couch than in the bedroom and since I am a lot smaller I can fit better. I don’t mind really. It’s more important that you are here.” The words were said lightly almost in jest but Jim could hear the earnest need beneath.

Jim turned, giving Blair a speculative stare and still wondering if he were ready to share a bed with this man. He thought about Incacha’s words but he knew he wasn’t ready for a full sexual relationship yet, the memories of Brackett still too raw but maybe in a few days when he knew Blair better. “How about we take turns? I’ll take the bed one week you take it the next?”

Blair nodded, wishing he could suggest they share the bed but afraid to bring it up. “Works for me,” he answered softly before indicating one of the dressers. “I cleared this one out for you. You can unpack your stuff. And I moved some crates and hung a bar to create a makeshift closet.” Blair moved around one of the tapestries and indicated a curtain and bar running across some crates. 

“Thanks Blair,” Jim put his suitcases on the bed. “How about I put some of this stuff away and then I’ll take you out to dinner?”

“Well,” Blair blushed. “I do cook and I made dinner. But, hey I could freeze it.”

“No,” Jim shook his head. “We’ll eat your dinner and I’ll take you out tomorrow night.” Blair nodded and for a few minutes watched as Jim began to unpack his stuff and then turned back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner.

By the time Jim emerged from the bedroom, the card table in the living room had been transformed into a dining table by the placement of a clean white tablecloth, two place settings, two wine glasses, and a large tapered candle. Glancing over at the sentinel, Blair indicated a bottle of wine on the counter. “Want to open the bottle?” he asked, bringing over the salad.

“Sure,” Jim answered looking around. He could tell Blair had gone to a lot of trouble to set up a nice space for meals. The table cloth was new, Jim suspected the dishes might be as well.

“I hope you like shrimp,” Blair looked over. “I made fettuccini with shrimp. I know it’s loaded with fat but I wanted to make something special to celebrate your arrival.”

“Sounds great,” Jim answered pouring two glasses of wine as Blair carried over a large steaming bowl of pasta. 

Sentinel and guide sat down to dinner, Jim telling Blair how he had closed up the cabin and Blair talking about the policy he had drafted to make sure the CSG was on track. Over dessert, a decadent chocolate cake, Blair asked as offhandedly as he could what Jim planned to do during the week. Jim glanced at the guide knowing Blair wanted him to help pick would be guides. “When are you interviewing guides?” he asked at last.

“Tuesday. Mrs. Glassbaum set up six appointments.”

“I won’t be part of the interview but I’ll sit in and watch.” The smile Jim received in response was dazzling and Jim had to admit he wanted to see that look more often, especially when he was the one causing it.

“Great man. I am really looking forward to your input.”

Jim nodded. “Monday I’ll go and talk to Simon about returning to Major Crimes a bit sooner than expected and I’ll see if I can talk with the couple at my loft about a few things.” 

After sharing the clean up from dinner the pair watched a game finishing off the wine and then Jim wished Blair good night and headed to the bedroom. Pausing as he washed up for bed, he wondered if he should invite Blair to join him or perhaps discuss with the guide why he hadn’t invited him but, naturally reticent, he turned and disappeared without a word.

Blair watched Jim go, his hands nervously pushing back his curly hair, as the sentinel disappeared into the bathroom. Part of him was disappointed that he wasn’t entering the bedroom with Jim but part of him was admittedly a little relieved. He knew what he felt for Jim and it was intense. The idea of something even deeper, even stronger, with all that it entailed scared him a bit. This relationship was a lot more serious than any he had shared with anyone male or female and though his body and subconscious already accepted the bond, his conscious mind still had fears about the level of commitment and some part of him knew better than to jump into this relationship. “Good night, Jim,” he whispered knowing Jim’s sensitive ears would hear him. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Blair grabbed the book he was reading and curled up on the couch.

The next morning, Jim walked into the living room and smiled as he saw his guide curled up and asleep on the couch. He had obviously fallen asleep reading, his glasses were still perched on the end of his nose. Moving over Jim gently removed the glasses causing Blair to mumble something and bury his head in the pillow. Turning off the light, Jim placed the book down and then went into the kitchen to get some coffee. 

It was still early but Jim was an early riser and he looked around the kitchen deciding he would clean the kitchen while Blair was at work, what Blair considered clean and Jim considered clean were two very different things. But first, as the coffee perked he grabbed a garbage bag and dialing down his sense of smell removed the remains of a rodent Blair’s traps had caught. Grabbing a cup and washing it out he poured himself some java and, sitting at the makeshift table, glanced around the room, his eyes moving over and stopping when he saw a wolf and jaguar sitting together in the corner watching him. “I know what you two want,” he said quietly to the spirit animals. “But you are going to have to wait till I’m ready.” He watched the two animals settle down as Blair raised his head over the couch arm.

“Jim who are you talking to?” he asked sitting up and rubbing his face. 

Jim glanced in the direction of the spirit animals. “Myself I think,” he answered cryptically raising his coffee cup to buy some time. “I made coffee and I’ll start breakfast while you are in the shower.”

“Oh I can make it.”

“Don’t you have work this morning?” 

Blair paused. “Um, yeah, I do” he answered somewhat fuzzily. “What are your plans for today?” he asked rising and heading for the bathroom.

“I’m going to work on getting my job and my loft back.” 

Blair nodded heading for the bathroom. “Sounds like a plan man. Do you want the CSG lawyers to help?”

“I’ll let you know if I do,” Jim called after him opening the fridge and digging out eggs.

The pair ate breakfast together and then Blair dashed off to work while Jim surveyed his surroundings with interest, one hand idly running over a broom in the corner his sensitive fingers identifying the small imperfections in the wood. He decided he would start cleaning and then call Simon about getting back to work sooner. Also, he would have a chat with the couple in the loft. Maybe, he could get them to move out a bit sooner. He certainly didn’t relish the idea of sleeping on the sofa every other week and he wasn’t ready to share a bed with Blair despite Incacha’s urging. Hell, he wasn’t even sure Blair would want to. The beginning bond was intense, overwhelming even, and could cause the guide to feel he needed a physical bond but that didn’t mean he would necessarily want one for all time. Physical bonding was not a necessity but it was a big commitment. Lifting the broom, Jim surveyed the loft again shaking his head. If Sandburg had cleaned this place he shuddered to think what it had looked like.

Blair usually stayed some time after work, chatting with Richard or some of the legal or medical staff but knowing Jim was at his apartment he ran out and headed for home, stopping only long enough to gather a few additional items the apartment would need. Arriving home he walked in and stopped looking around in surprise. The warehouse had undergone a transformation in the hours since he left. It looked cleaner, a lot cleaner, and things seemed to be more organized. “Jim,” Blair called looking around as the sentinel came out of the bedroom carrying an industrial strength garbage bag. “You really didn’t have to clean, man.”

“Yes I did, Sandburg,” Jin answered, putting the bag by the door. “But it’s done now.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this neat.” Jim smiled, nodding in response, and Blair smiled back. “How about I make dinner?” he offered.

“Fine but don’t mess the kitchen.”

Blair rolled his eyes and turned toward the kitchen pulling out ingredients to make a stir fry. “So how did your day go? I mean did you even get a chance to walk out of the apartment? It’s so clean I’d guess it took forever to do.”

“Yes I went and saw the couple who have the loft. They are going to leave a month and a half early. I offered to pay the two month’s rent on the new place if they would go.” Blair paused looking down at the food he was preparing making an effort to keep his face neutral.

“So you’ll be out of here in a month and a half?” he asked softly keeping his voice casual.

“A month, Chief. And in two I’ll be starting back with the PD.” 

Blair nodded, some part of him acknowledging that Jim was happy though his mind kept stalling on the idea of the sentinel leaving. Intellectually, he knew Jim would be nearby but Jim’s leaving bothered him. He supposed it was the bond still settling but knowing didn’t seem to make things easier. “And your old job is waiting?” he asked watching the food.

“Simon will have it ready for me just about the time I get the loft.”

“And what about your senses?”

Jim, watching Blair, frowned hearing the less than enthused tone. “For the most part I can handle them.”

“And when you can’t?”

“I have a guide,” Jim answered coming to stand beside the anthropologist and letting his hand drop onto Blair’s shoulder. “When I need help, believe me, I will call.”

Blair nodded and looked at the food starting again to prepare dinner. “Tomorrow I have some people coming in looking to become guides. You will come, right?”

“Sure.”

Blair looked over his shoulder at Jim. “We could have lunch right before. It will be right after my meeting with Senator Baker.”

“Senator Baker?”

“Yeah he called and asked to meet with me.” Blair stopped and watched Jim’s face as his jaw tightened the muscle twitching. “Jim?”

“What does he want?” The sentinel’s voice was cold and hard.

“I don’t know,” Blair answered turning and studying Jim’s face thoughtfully. “What’s wrong?”

“Senator Baker was involved with the Sentinel Institute. He and Shaver were good friends.” Jim paused, taking a step away and looking off before continuing reluctantly, unwilling to meet Blair’s eyes. “He has connections with some genetics research group that wanted sentinel samples so he convinced Shaver to get samples for their study.”

“Samples,” Blair whispered with a sense of foreboding. “What kind and how?” he asked turning off the food and coming to stand by Jim a hand resting on a suddenly tense shoulder.

“Semen,” Jim whispered. “Six of us were stripped and tied spread eagle to posts. The scientists came over and shoved electric prods up our asses to get samples.”

Blair paled thinking about what had been done to Jim but made a conscious effort to keep calm as he asked, “What was the company’s name? I don’t remember anyone mentioning any of this to our legal team.”

“What differences does it make?” Jim shrugged off the shoulder and walked a few steps away.

“What difference does it make?” Blair’s voice practically exploded with anger his eyes flashing. “Someone tortures you and treats you like some kind of animal and you don’t think they should pay? I’m going to nail that company and the Senator.”

“Blair,” Jim finally turned and the guide could see the haunted look in his eyes. “Everyone treated us like animals. You can’t prosecute everyone.”

Blair stopped before taking a deep breath and slowly counting to ten. He needed to be calm if he was going to help Jim. Bringing his voice down to just above a whisper he continued. “Scientists are held to certain standards when dealing with subjects. They have moral obligations. Using unwilling subjects as guinea pigs and subjecting them to that kind of pain and humiliation is wrong on so many levels and the people who did it have to be held accountable.”

Jim nodded his understanding. “I can’t tell you who they were only what they did. Six of us were used. They wanted extremely fit and active men for their study.”

“How many times were samples taken?”

“Just once, they wanted more but Shaver was afraid the prods might damage us and interfere with bonding. It would destroy our sale value.” The words were spoken softly but filled with bitterness and pain and Blair not even thinking about his actions moved to comfort his sentinel, his arms encircling Jim as he pulled the man in for a hug, his head resting against Jim’s chest.

“I’m going to get them Jim. Tomorrow I’ll try and find out who Baker was connected to and I am going to prosecute them.”

Slowly, Jim buried his nose in Blair’s hair breathing in, his body relaxing by degrees as he was enveloped by his guide’s scent. “No sentinel is going to want to admit that that was done to them Chief,” he whispered into the curls his hands going around Blair’s body. “But you know the worst part about it,” he continued, finding it easier to speak to the curls, “their attitudes as they got the samples. It went beyond callous indifference. They examined us, their hands pulling on our balls and they laughed making bets about who would produce the most sperm for their studies as they used the electric prod.”

“If I can arrange something will you testify?” Blair asked and watched Jim shake his head. 

“No,” Jim answered. “I am not going to testify. It’s over and I don’t want to relive it. In any case, it’s not the worst thing that was done to me.” 

Blair knew this was not a topic he would let go but put it aside for the time being promising to revisit it at a later point. He wanted Jim to prosecute this scientific group, Baker if he could prove a connection and ultimately Brackett. “Will you tell me what happened to you? All of it.”

“Maybe over time but I’m not ready yet,” Jim whispered before taking a breath and slowly pulling away, not looking at Blair. “But I don’t trust Baker.”

Blair was disappointed. He knew it would help Jim if he talked about the ordeal he had lived through but he wasn’t ready to have a fight with Jim over this, not yet anyway. “I’ll find out what he wants tomorrow. Maybe you could sit in on the conversation,” he suggested but Jim shook his head no.

“I doubt he would tell you anything with me there. I can sit in another room and listen in and monitor him. I’ll send you word if I need you to ask something.”

Blair nodded. “I’ll have you sit in the next office with Mrs. Glassbaum. She can bring in any messages.” Jim nodded his agreement and the pair sat down to their dinner with a lot less enthusiasm.

It was a quiet night, Jim and Blair watched television and then went to their beds but neither got much rest, tossing and turning as one relived horrific events and the other, imagining the same events, tossed and worried. 

The next morning Blair left early for work. He would speak with Mrs. Glassbaum about the role she would play and he wanted to do some research on Senator Baker before the meeting. 

Jim turned up at 10:30 since Blair’s meeting with Baker would be at 11:00, and Blair’s face lit up seeing his sentinel. “Hi,” he stood and walked over a hand coming to rest on Jim’s arm. “How was your morning?”

Jim chuckled. “I cleaned the bathroom after you left.” Jim lifted a lock of hair. “You really need to clean your drains Sandburg.”

“Absolutely, man,” he agreed as Mrs. Glassbaum entered the room and he turned to the secretary. “Everything ready?” he asked and received a nod before he turned back to the sentinel. “We made a slight change in how to handle this.” He indicated the laptop on his desk. “Mrs. Glassbaum will send me an instant message anytime you have input and that way Senator Baker won’t have any interruptions.”

Jim nodded his agreement and followed Blair into the next room where a desk was cleared and a laptop sat open. Indicating the desk Blair continued. “This room is used by the legal counsel but I asked the lawyer to use another room during the interview.” He turned concerned eyes on Jim. “If you need me at any point just call,” he indicated the phone, “and I’ll come in.”

“Thanks Chief. This will be fine.”

Blair nodded still concerned as he turned and left the room, and twenty minutes later Mrs. Glassbaum entered taking a seat across from Jim after escorting Senator Baker into Blair’s office. 

In Blair’s office Senator Baker crossed over to the director of the CSG shaking his hand before taking the indicated seat across from Blair.

“Senator Baker,” Blair sat down. “I was surprised when I heard from you. What can I do for you?”

Senator Baker smiled. “I of course wanted to show my support for your Center. I am very concerned for the sentinels reintegrating into society.”

“Of course,” Blair answered. “We all are.”

“Yes, of course.” Senator Baker leaned back in his seat watching Blair. “How is the Center doing?”

“We’ve registered about one hundred of the sentinels and we have found guides for about a quarter of them.”

“Good, good,” Senator Baker smiled and Blair had a fleeting image of a shark circling a fish. “And most of these extraordinary people, the ones with guides, have entered into protective services?”

“Yes, police, emergency services, search and rescue, the fire department. It’s a natural inclination in sentinels to protect. Traditionally they were tribal protectors.”

Senator Baker nodded his understanding. “They are an incredible resource and it was a shame they were not recognized and utilized as such.”

“Yes,” Blair agreed with a sigh leaning forward. “Sentinels were not recognized for what they could do, a true shame.”

Senator Baker sighed as well. “And the worst part of this is there have been no sentinels born since the testing programs began at hospitals throughout the country. No new sentinels in the last few years.”

“I’ve heard that,” Blair agreed. “It was actually a strange phenomenon that there was such a large group of sentinels born at one time in one geographic area. Usually, tribes had one maybe two sentinels in a generation. No one understands why we had such a large number within the space of a few years or what conditions precipitated it, so unfortunately we don’t know how to replicate the conditions.” Senator Baker nodded sympathetically and Blair watching waited for Baker to take the bait.

“Yes. That is my major concern and that is what brought me here. As the head of the CSG you understand how important it is not only protecting the sentinels we have left but making sure sentinels continue to be a resource.”

Blair nodded his agreement. “Unfortunately, as you’ve stated there have been no new sentinels born.”

“Yes and we are concerned about that.” Baker paused and Blair waited making sure to keep his features politely interested. “We have geneticists and labs that are working on just that issue.” He studied Blair for a moment and then continued. “However, they need sentinel samples for their research. You can understand how important this is,” Baker added quickly and Blair nodded his eyes moving to his laptop where Jim had sent a message telling Blair to mention in passing that sentinel samples had been taken before.

Blair glanced back at Baker. “I might be mistaken but I thought the Sentinel Institute had arranged for some samples to be supplied to some lab or other for that purpose.”

“Yes, yes it did but unfortunately there were limited samples and they were used with the belief that more would be readily available and to be blunt, the labs could use more samples to ensure we do not lose such a valuable resource.”

“More samples?” Blair answered seeming to consider the need as he took out a pad of paper. “Which lab, how many samples, and how many sentinels should we ask to volunteer?”

“For security purposes the lab would not like to be named. We had six samples last time. Perhaps another six?”

“I don’t know if I can get some volunteers without that information Senator. How did the Sentinel Institute provide the samples?”

Baker’s eyes shifted away from Blair. “I would imagine that sentinels volunteered.” 

Blair glanced at his computer screen and read “He’s lying, his heartbeat just spiked.” It only confirmed what Blair’s own eyes were telling him. 

“I will ask for volunteers,” Blair paused. “But I am sure I would get better results if I had the lab’s name. The sentinels will want to know the research organization is reputable before agreeing.”

“I can assure you it is.”

“Again, I am sure the sentinels will ask and truthfully Senator, were I a sentinel I wouldn’t agree without knowing the name of the research facility.” 

The Senator considered the argument for a moment then nodded. “We, I mean they, don’t want their research compromised. So off the record, it’s Gencorp.”

Blair nodded. “Do you know which sentinels volunteered last time? It would make getting samples easier.”

“I’m afraid not. The Sentinel Institute provided the volunteers but they chose healthy, active subjects.” The Senator glanced at his watch and stood smiling and Blair felt like wiping the smile off his face - with a fist but it didn’t show on the guide’s face. “You will try and get some volunteers? I imagine that the Center should have some influence and weight if it asks. Should you succeed you have but to call my office.” Blair also stood.

“I assure you, this matter will get my full attention.” Baker nodded with a smile and turning left the room. A minute later Jim entered. 

“Gencorp,” Blair looked at Jim silently evaluating the sentinel. It couldn’t have been easy for him to hear Baker’s cavalier attitude. The way he referred to sentinels like prized pets instead of people. “I’ll have our investigators look into Gencorp and Senator Baker’s connection,” he promised. “As scientists they have to have kept records of their actions. And I will get them.” 

Jim shook his head. “You’re acting like Don Quixote going up against windmills. I’m telling you again, you can’t punish everyone. There were too many people involved.” 

“Maybe not, but I’m going to damn well try.” Blair answered with vehemence coming around the desk and placing a hand on Jim’s arm, the physical connection with his sentinel immediately soothing Blair.

Jim looked down at his guide, hearing the anger and seeing the protective stance and realized just how much this man wanted to be not only his guide but his protector. Seeing the flashing blue eyes, the determined set of his face, and the indignation on the sentinel’s behalf something in Jim loosened and relaxed. Long ago Jim Ellison had placed a wall around his heart. Carolyn had breached it when they first were together but the wall had strengthened over time as events shredded his life. Now, looking into his guide’s face, Jim felt a part of the wall crumble letting in Blair Sandburg, anthropologist, CSG director and guide. He smiled tenderly and Blair silently swore he had never seen anything more beautiful as he returned the smile. “I know you will Blair, that’s part of why you are my guide.”

Blair nodded sensing Jim had come to some important conclusion though not entirely sure what or where it would lead. “Can a guide take his sentinel to lunch?” he asked softly.

“You know my favorite place to eat is Wonder Burger.”

“Why don’t you just open a vein and shoot the fat right in,” the guide mumbled knowing full well the sentinel would hear. “How about Thai?”

“You’re treating?”

“Absolutely man,” Blair hooked his arm around Jim’s and the pair walked out of the office arm in arm.

Blair didn’t know if it was his empathy, the bond, or some other sense but over lunch he knew something was different about Jim Ellison. For one thing, he sat very close to Blair, closer than he had before, for another he kept watching Blair until the guide finally asked, “Do I have food on my face or something?” Jim only shook his head with an enigmatic smile but he continued to watch the guide, his head tilting as if listening to something. And everyone once and a while he would reach over and take a piece of food off Blair’s plate. It took Blair a few minutes to realize the food Jim stole was carefully chosen. It was pieces that Blair had taken a bite of. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Jim what he was doing but something told him it was a sentinel thing and he held back and instead he leaned closer to the sentinel enjoying the physical contact throughout the meal.

After lunch the pair went back and interviewed guide candidates, Jim monitoring them and identifying which ones were in fact potential guides. Blair still found it amazing that Jim could tell who could make a guide and pushed for more of an explanation, Jim finally shrugging and nodding at the last person’s application. “A guide connects to the sentinel on an empathic level and a sentinel can sense the ability to connect.”

“So you sense their empathy?” 

“Not exactly, I sense a connection but it is very subtle.”

“And if the connection works bonding happens?”

“Yes but keep in mind just because a person could be a guide doesn’t mean just any sentinel will connect with him. A sentinel has to feel safe with that person for the bonding to work. He or she has to sense that he can trust that person with his senses.”

Blair’s blue eyes looked into Jim’s. “You trust me?” he asked softly feeling a warmth run through his body.

“I trust you.” The smile Jim got was breathtaking and he reached out gently caressing the guide’s cheek before stating quietly. “I trust you with my life and my senses, guide.” He looked down in the deep blue eyes thinking but not saying, “And with my heart.”

“I will guard them Sentinel,” Blair answered lifting his own hand to let it close on the hand caressing his cheek. “I will guard you with my life.”

“I know you will,” Jim answered softly. Jim hesitated for a moment looking into the open face of his guide and then, deciding life didn’t come with guarantees only chances, he leaned forward slowly, giving Blair a chance to retreat but instead the guide moved forward so their lips met, Blair’s opening and deepening the kiss as his hands slid around Jim’s waist. As they joined both releasing their doubts they felt a jolt like an electric shock running through them, making them dizzy and lightheaded so they clung to one another for a moment before reluctantly pulling back.

“Was that part of bonding?” Blair whispered breathlessly. 

Jim nodded. “Deep level bonding, Blair.”

“Wow.”

Jim paused and considered Blair. “At the deepest levels the sex would be intense. I could zone on it.”

“I won’t let you.”

“Is it what you want?” Jim asked and Blair nodded. “But you have to understand Blair, it would be for life. It would be a commitment beyond just sentinel and guide. It would be a life bond, breaking it could kill both of us.”

Blair wrapped his hands around Jim’s waist, looking up, wanting another kiss. “I do,” he whispered and Jim smiled leaning down to kiss the guide lightly before pulling back, still in Blair’s arms.

“I might not be ready for everything,” he warned. “Memories of Brackett are still raw. I might not be able to share with you.”

“We’ll take our time,” Blair agreed. “No rush, no pressure.”

Jim nodded his agreement. “Then maybe we should take up this conversation at home.” Blair’s eyes lit up as Jim continued. “I have this really nice seductive bedroom, it’s the nicest room in this warehouse I’m staying at,” Jim continued. “You might want to see it.”

“Love to, with you,” Blair answered rising Jim’s hand stealing into his as the pair walked out of the Center for Sentinels and Guides.

***Part Twelve – Life Bond

Blair was unaccountably nervous as he and Jim entered the warehouse bedroom. He wanted this so much and at the same time knew it would be intense and this first leap would be so hard for his sentinel. Taking calming breaths he lit some candles on the dresser, reminding himself to take this slowly, let the sentinel set the pace and turned with a smile as he opened the night table drawer pulling out supplies.

Looking over at Jim he considered how far Jim had traveled emotionally and psychologically to reach the point where he would want a physical bond with a guide and thanked the spirits that watched over sentinels and guides for this chance. “I,” he paused as Jim watched him thoughtfully. “I love you,” he finished. As he said the words, Blair took a hesitant step towards Jim and the sentinel matched his move coming over and pulling the guide into his arms.

“I love you too, Blair.” Jim nuzzled Blair’s neck licking the sensitive skin and sending a shiver down the guide’s spine. Blair was instantly hard. Stepping back, Jim smiled, “Undress for me.”

Blair nodded and slowly removed his clothes his eyes on Jim as each article fell to the floor until he stood before the sentinel naked, the soft candle light behind him silhouetting him.

With slow deliberate steps Jim circled him reaching out to touch his body lightly until he once again faced his guide and let his hand slide over Blair’s erection forcing a soft moan from the guide. “You are beautiful,” Jim whispered, his hands sliding down Blair’s strong shoulders and arms before moving over his hairy chest, feeling the nipples peak at the minimal contact. “I want you.”

“Anything you want,” came the near breathless response.

“I want to taste you, I want to be inside you,” Jim replied his mouth moving over the same spots his hands had explored. “And I want you to be inside of me.”

Blair’s hands, shaking, cupped Jim’s face. “You don’t have to. If you’re not ready,” he let the sentence trail off.

“I trust you Blair. I want this.” Blair nodded leaning forward to kiss Jim again, feeling the electricity flow through them, binding them tighter.

“Undress for me,” Blair whispered and Jim nodded removing his own clothes as the guide watched. Naked the pair came together. “Do me first Jim. I can’t wait much longer.”

“I’ve never done this before, Chief. I’ve never taken a man,” Jim answered as his sensitive fingers moved over Blair’s heated flesh.

“Do what seems natural,” Blair whispered and then practically sobbed when a lubricated finger entered him. “Please Jim,” he begged as the sentinel stretched him, preparing him.

Jim didn’t say anything but he ran kisses up and down Blair’s spine as he continued getting the guide ready before slowly positioning himself and pushing into Blair. It was pure torture the sensations running through the guide. He was hot but shivering, he wanted Jim to go faster but wanted it to never end as the connections flared seeming to meld them into one. He cried out pushing back over and over as Jim moved within him and his entire world focused on what was happening inside him and between his legs. When he finally came, waves of pleasure flowing through him, he screamed Jim’s name and dropped his head to the pillow practically incoherent.

A few minutes later, Jim’s soft touch brought him back and he looked at his sentinel. “Jim, that was,” he shook his head having no words that could define the experience and the sentinel nodded his understanding.

“Bonding,” he whispered stealing a quick kiss. “At the deepest level.” Blair nodded.

“When you’re ready it will be your turn to do me,” Jim continued and Blair unbelievably could feel his groin stir at the idea. “Then we will be perfectly bonded.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“If I weren’t before this I am totally sure now.” Blair smiled and turned over pulling the sentinel to him, beginning his own exploration of Jim. “I want you now.”

In response Jim slid down on his back and looked at Blair. “I need to see you while we do this,” he admitted and Blair nodded his understanding as he slowly licked his way down the sentinel’s body. 

“If you need me to stop.”

“I won’t.”

Blair smiled reaching for the lubricant. “If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he began and Jim seeing the love and concern smiled.

“Get me ready guide, I want to be yours.” 

Running his tongue up Jim’s hardening flesh, Blair took Jim into his mouth and sucked until he heard a small whimper and then as he continued to suck slowly he pushed a lubricated finger into Jim, focusing carefully on the sentinel’s reaction. Jim stayed calm and Blair continued sliding his fingers in and out in time to the slow sucking until he was sure Jim was more than ready. Pulling back he looked down into the face of the man he loved as Jim pulled his legs back, knees bent exposing himself. “This is my choice,” he told Blair in a hoarse whisper. “I’m choosing this. I never did this for Brackett.” 

Leaning down and stealing a kiss, Blair whispered, “I love you,” as he slowly pushed into the sentinel, carefully monitoring Jim’s reaction. He saw Jim’s eyes dilate, he heard a moan but before he could react, before he could decide if it was a moan of pleasure, pain or both, Jim thrust up pushing Blair in deeper impaling himself on his guide and Blair thrust forward and again whispered, “I love you.” 

Neither Blair nor Jim knew how long their first union took but this joining seemed suspended in time as sentinel and guide melded into a life bond the two spiraling wildly inward and onward until they came in each other’s arms, two bodies joined with one heart and one soul. 

It was an hour later that Blair’s fingers slid up and down Jim’s face and the sentinel blinked coming out of a haze and looking at his guide.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” Blair admitted watching his sentinel’s face.

“Incacha said a life bond was different from sex,” Jim agreed pulling the guide close and letting his senses loose on the guide, no longer afraid of zoning.

“Will it always be like this?”

“I hope so,” Jim answered settling down, holding his guide and looking around the room. “How long have we been like this?”

Blair glanced at the candles. “A while. I think we both zoned.”

“I’d like us to do this somewhere else,” Jim answered and Blair raised an eyebrow wondering if his sentinel was an exhibitionist.

“Where?”

“My loft. Would you consider moving in with me? As beautiful as this room is, I think we would be more comfortable there.”

“I’d love to,” Blair cuddled against his sentinel.

“Of course we will need some house rules,” Jim continued lazily drawing circles on Blair’s back.

“House rules?”

“Yeah, you know to keep the loft clean.”

“We’ll negotiate some, later,” Blair answered closing his eyes. “After we’ve moved in, my anally retentive sentinel.”

“Are you going to ignore my rules guide?”

“Probably,” Blair answered with a smile but he could feel Jim’s smile in return as the sentinel closed his own eyes.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Chief,” Jim whispered and drifted off to sleep his senses surrounded by his guide.


End file.
